I Dare Not Hope
by prettytimemachine
Summary: Horror/Supernatural AU. Margaret and her father are left penniless as they both try to recover from the loss of her mother when they move to Milton. Nothing is what it seems as Margaret realizes something is not right in this dark,mysterious town. When strange and unexplainable things start to happen, Margaret can only wonder if the secretive Thornton's have anything to do with it.
1. Chapter 1

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 1

_"Hell is empty and all the devils are here." – The Tempest, William Shakespeare_

_"I wish I could tell you how lonely I am. How cold and harsh it is here. Everywhere there is conflict and unkindness. I think God has forsaken this place. I believe I have seen hell and its white, its snow-white."_  
_― BBC, North and South_

Margaret stood looking out of her window across the green field of Helstone. The day was bright as the sun shone across the thriving Southern land, but the anguish in Margaret's heart could not be diminished. She knew not how long she had been standing there, hoping to take her mind from the present. After awhile she realized she had been wringing her hands together so tightly that she couldn't feel the tips of her fingers anymore. Looking down, her first movement in hours, she saw the purple hue she inflicted upon herself. She had been trying so hard to keep from crying that she didn't notice the state she had put herself in. She realized even if she allowed her tears to fall that she couldn't, even if she forced them from her being.

When her mother had passed not two weeks ago she couldn't even fathom letting one tear fall. Seeing her father crumble before her eyes in despair like he had, had made Margaret the stern and dependable adult that he should have been for his daughter. But their roles in this horrid time were switched. Mr. Hale cried like a babe at the loss of his wife, denouncing God as the reason they should be tormented so. His words echoed in her ears, _why have you forsaken me, God?! My wife, my dear Maria, taken so cruelly from my side, oh I love you not Lord, for you have brought doubt within my heart!_

Margaret turned a blind eye to her father's blasphemous remarks, not willing to go down that dark path with him. As it was, she stayed vigil at his side while Dixon kept to her house work. Though Margaret knew she suffered just as the rest of them. She would hear the maid throughout the house muttering under her breath that it should have been the master, not her mistress that was taken from this good earth. Again, Margaret would not hear it.

She wished more than anything that Fred was here with them, but quickly realized he would be just as bad as their father. Although Fred was older then herself, she felt the mature one at times. When they were children Fred would have the unconditional love from both their parents and given no scorn at his wrongdoings, while Margaret was expected to watch and learn as an obedient child. _As if Fred was an Angel sent from Heaven!_ She always felt second best to Fred but tried to stay the devoted and pure daughter that the Hale's expected. Even the scandal that Fred had found himself in had not lessened their parents love for their first born. The mutiny came as a shock that started her mother's illness but one year ago. Since then she had not recovered. In her last moments her thoughts were of her baby boy. Even thought the Hales knew of Fred's innocence, the slander on the Hale name had struck a blow on all of them.

Scorned as Margaret felt during this time, she still loved all her family dearly, and they in turn loved her, but Margaret knew her family wasn't one for affection. As she grew older, now one and twenty, she had accepted that this was the way it was.

Margaret had felt the loss of her dear mother and felt, like her father, that her time had come too soon. She wished she had more time with her mother, to strengthen the bond between a mother and a daughter, but it was too late. Peering back out towards the edge of the field where the blossoms had faded and where her mother's fresh grave lied, she tried to imagine the last time the Hales had felt like a family. Ever since Fred left Helstone nothing had been the same. Leaving for the Navy had been Fred's ambition, much to her parents dismay they had to let him go, leaving them to worry over him for the past five years. The Mutiny and his hiding from the law now guaranteed Fred's absence. Margaret feared, forever.

In the mean time her father had kept to giving sermons at the church every Sunday, and giving hope where he could to those less fortunate and to those who would take solace from a man who fathered a mutineer. In Fred's absence Margaret was determined to show that she could be just as devoted as he had been. She listened to her father day and night and let him read stories of all sorts aloud to her and her mother. When her mother became ill, her father had cast that all aside to stay by his love's side, day and night.

Margaret grew to loath both her parents during this time. She knew it was selfish and not the Christian way but she had been hurt. She knew then that Fred was the favorite child, and had hoped that she could fill the void in her parent's hearts in his absence. But it was not to be so. As much as she tried her parents mourned for Fred as if he was dead and buried!

Margaret clenched her hands again. She knew it was wrong to feel the way she did. She knew her character better than anyone and was disappointed in herself for her dark thoughts. She anticipated leaving Helstone as it was not to be their home any longer. In reality it had never felt like home to her. Looking around her barren room, her belongings now in boxes, she thought of Edith and her Aunt Shaw. How she missed them so. She had spent most of her youth with her dear cousin, and always felt more herself in Edith's presence.

Edith, like herself had been dealt a terrible blow this past year. Her fiancé Captain Lennox had died of typhoid. Taken away too soon like Mrs. Hale. Edith was inconsolable. Margaret had wanted so badly to go to her cousin's side to comfort her, and hopefully in turn Margaret would receive the same compassion. But Margaret would not leave her father. Her Aunt Shaw had offered Margaret many times to come live with them permanently, now that Fred was gone and her father penniless. As much as Margaret wished for this she was not heartless. No, she would stay with her father.

Margaret dusted away the cloudy thoughts invading her mind. There was still so much to be done and she had to see to it. All her possessions in her room were packed away and ready, but she was sure both her father and Dixon were heartbroken to leave and did not hasten themselves to leave at once. Her mother's room had been left untouched to the last. Margaret knew the task would be left up to her.

They couldn't afford to live here now anyway. Once her father quit the church he could not be seen as a respectable man of the parish any longer, not while in Helstone. So, they had to leave.

Margaret walked through her room leaving a strange echoing behind her. Making her way down the steps Margaret could hear Dixon in the kitchen. Muttering under her breath again and packing away the china.

"I'm going to go through Mama's room now, Dixon. Would you care to help me?" Margaret asked to a hunched over Dixon, who huffed and puffed while making a show of the whole display.

At the mention of Mrs. Hale's room, Dixon looked up like the notion had never been mentioned before. Slack jawed, she said to Margaret, but more to herself, "If it wasn't for your father we would never have to leave Helstone. No, no mistress you see to it. I cannot step foot in that room without losing all the sense I have left!" She waved Margaret away with a flash of her hand. Dixon muttered under her breath some comment on Mr. Hale not doing a thing to help. How Dixon wished the mistress was still alive. Margaret only wished that Dixon knew they all felt as she did. After all she was her mother, not Dixon's!

Margaret turned from the kitchen, unwilling to stand to hear her father spoken of in such a manner. _The sooner we will be rid of Helstone the better we will be_. Even as Margaret told herself this, she wasn't sure they could escape the confines of grief in another setting that would be all too unfamiliar. She felt though, that none of them could go on as they have while in Helstone. At least in another place it would feel like a fresh start.

As Margaret turned about the house looking for her father, she took in the sights around her as it would be her last. With the curtains gone and the furniture removed, the light came through harshly in the echoing rooms. She wouldn't miss Helstone. No, she would miss how she once viewed the Eden she thought it was.

Finding her father cooped up in his study, book in his hand she hummed to get his attention. Turning to find his daughter patiently waiting for entry Mr. Hale lightened at the sight of his daughter.

"My dear Margaret," he said while removing his spectacles, "You look positively wild my dear, where have you been all day?"

Margaret took his meaning as her face was flush from silently fuming at Dixon and her hair had been unkempt these last few weeks. She didn't give a bother to her appearance with so much to do and take care of.

"I have been in my room, making sure all is ready. How are you father?" She asked with a genuine smile upon her face. She purposely did not tell her father that she would have to go through Mama's room. She took his hands in hers as she sat on the floor in front of him. Looking into his eyes she could see how tired he looked. _He_ _looks so old_, she thought worryingly to herself.

"It is hard to acknowledge, but I do not think leaving Helstone is the right thing to do." He admitted.

"I know Papa, I do not wish to leave either," she lied, "but you know we must."

"Yes." was all Mr. Hale could say as he sat back in his chair, one hand holding onto Margaret's. "It's just that your mother loved Helstone, and to be leaving her, I just can't think of it Margaret!"

"Shh, Papa. You know mother will always be with us. No matter where we go, that should comfort you. Is it so hard to believe that we should be able to make a home with just the two of us?" Margaret asked hopefully.

Mr. Hale could only turn his head from Margaret's sight and nod. She hung her head in disappointment. No, she would not miss Helstone. The brisk November air wafted through the room making Margaret shiver on the floor. It had turned chilly quickly. The days moved in a breeze. There was no more time to waste.

Margaret felt more than ever that she would rather be anywhere else then Helstone. They were quiet for awhile, just the two of them in the study until Dixon knocked harshly on the door.

"Everything is ready Master. We are free to go once Mrs. Hale's room is through." Dixon said haughtily.

Margaret's gaze on Dixon hardened as she looked to the maid. _Had she no compassion?!_

"Thank you Dixon." Margaret said, dismissing her. "Come father, we must not waste any more time or we'll miss our train and our appointments in London." Margaret stood to leave but was held in place by her father's sudden embrace.

"But I cannot leave her Margaret!" Mr. Hale sobbed.

Margaret held him firmly, trying to think of how to placate him. She held him back, relishing at the gesture, even if it was for his own compassion.

"You know we must father. It is settled. We will go to Milton, you and I and Dixon shall seek employment. All is not lost. We will fair in Milton just as well as Helstone." Margaret's voice was filled with hope. Hope for her father, and enough hope for herself. Though she couldn't say how much good it would do her. _How she wished to be free from this misery! Oh mama why did you ever leave us?!_

"What is Milton to Helstone? Have you been there Margaret? Nay, you cannot say Milton is as Helstone!" Mr. Hale pushed Margaret from his embrace in an attempt to keep her from dissuading him otherwise.

"You know I have not father, but surely any place we are together cannot be as bad as you think?" Margaret stood waiting for her father to come back. _He really was not himself anymore_, she mused.

Margaret could see her father's shoulder relax as he turned to her, shame and embarrassment etched across his stony face. "Of course Margaret, how could I say such a thing?" They both sighed in silent relief. "I have not been a father to you these passed months have I?"

Margaret looked down, unwilling to give her father an answer.

"I know I haven't." He took her in her arms again, "I wish now, more than ever that you had married Henry, and then I wouldn't have to worry about you."

Margaret physically blanched at the thought of Henry Lennox, her once betrothed. They had fallen in love after being introduced through Edith, as Henry was brother to Captain Lennox. Margaret could recall that lovely summer's day when he had promised her a wedding in Helstone. Margaret knew the love they felt was one sided when he found out about Fred and that she would be desolate by the year's end. He had broken off any such promise of a betrothal saying he would not marry into a _broken family with an outlaw for a brother_. But Margaret could not tell her father this. She knew how it would shame him.

"You know Henry and I have always been good friends, but that is all Papa." Margaret said to her father while trying to assure herself of her own words. She wondered where he was at this moment and quickly chastised herself for thinking any more on him. How much she too wished things had turned out differently.

"Maybe you're right. This will be new for the both of us, a fresh start as they say." Her father's voice ripped her from her memory of Henry and the scar he had left on her heart.

"Oh how true it is father. Just wait and you will see. Milton could be our new Eden."

With a pat on her head from her father, Margaret left to tend to her mother's room. Taking the stairs one at a time Margaret wished to do anything else but go through her mother's things. They were to be sorted and sold except for the few treasures Margaret would want to keep.

The hinges on the door groaned as Margaret opened it wide. She almost expected to find her mother in her sitting chair, embroidering. Mrs. Hale had fervently tried to get Margaret to better herself in embroidery but it was never for her. Mrs. Hale had given up long ago trying to better Margaret's skill. Margaret regretted not spending the stolen time with her mother.

Margaret got straight to it, tackling her mother's chest drawer full of her linens and laces. All of her mother's fine embroidery work was kept within the chest. Margaret quickly rummaged through all of them not willing to spend a moment longer looking at every single one. It wasn't until Margaret found one of her own unfinished embroideries still in its hoop that she really felt the loss of her mother. Margaret succumbed to grief as she hung herself over the chest with her mother's laces strewn around her. _Oh Mama! Mama! Why did you leave me?! _Margaret still did not shed one single tear.

* * *

Margaret did not look back once as they departed from Helstone. The only sight she let her eyes look forlornly after was the sight of the church tower over the trees. The church she would have married Henry. And if she had stayed in Helstone for the better part of her days, would have been buried in, next to her mother. As the train gained speed and jostled along the tracks Margaret couldn't help the excitement she felt at being free from the burden of the house that held so many memories. Even as she left behind a life she knew was full of memories, good and bad, she looked forward to her unknown future in Milton. The prospect of a new life and possible employment for the first time in her life gave her a feeling she didn't recognize. _Was it hope?_

"We should arrive in Milton by nightfall father." Margaret spoke up, knowing that if she didn't start conversation, no one else would.

"Very good, then I can meet with my contact, Mr. Thornton." Mr. Hale said, settling in next to his daughter, across from Dixon, who had been silent since they left their home.

"Is this Mr. Thornton the one who has set up lodgings and possible employment for you?" Margaret had heard her father mention a Mr. Thornton before. She found it quite odd that a complete stranger would help them so willingly and with no ulterior motive from what she could gather. Unless this tradesman had understood how fortuitist it would be to have an educated clergyman new to town.

"The very one my dear, I shall meet his acquaintance in London. You might be right of the promise of a new start in Milton, Margaret, if all men of the town are as gentlemanly and obliging as he." Mr. Hale said dosing as he spoke.

Margaret only nodded, hoping that her intuition was right, that this Mr. Thornton was not trying to swindle them. If he was, he was in for quite a surprise as there was nothing they could give him if they offered!

Mr. Hale and Dixon had long since fallen asleep, so Margaret could smile and fidget in her seat to her heart's content. She hoped that her mother would have been proud of her only daughter fending for herself and her family. Now that they were penniless she didn't have the luxuries that she used to. She still considered herself a lady in every way but hoped to prove to the people of Milton that she was as hard working and respectable as them. _What would the people of Milton be like? Would she finally make friends like herself? Could she and her father truly be happy?_

It was all too much for Margaret. Her life had changed in such a short amount of time that for once, she didn't know what the future held for her.

Before she knew it they had arrived in London. Looking out across the station to the busy familiar streets, Margaret felt almost like herself coming back to the bustling city. The sudden stop of the train woke her father and Dixon from their slumber. Margaret looked out wide eyed towards the station.

Once they retrieved their things and headed for their hotel for the next few days Margaret felt lighter than ever. She adapted so well to city life and hoped her father and Dixon could adjust as well.

Their first evening in the hotel would be spent without employment. While Dixon and Margaret settled into their room, Mr. Hale saw to call on a few friends and make his appointment with Mr. Thornton as soon as possible.

* * *

Much to the Hale's and Dixon's surprise, Mr. Thornton had replied that he would be glad to meet Mr. Hale that very morning. They were all very glad in his hastiness as they weren't sure they could afford their lodgings at the hotel for very long. So as the morning came, Margaret bid farewell to her father for the day, so she took off along the seashore of Heston. Noticing already the difference between Helstone and even the less industrial towns in London, Margaret noted how much more grey and duller Heston was. She knew as close as they were to Milton, that it would be even less alluring and enduring then their current stay. Still, she could not quell her desire to finally be in Milton.

Margaret had been anxious all day for her father's return. When he finally came back to the hotel a little after noon, Margaret could see how exhausted her father was.

"How was your meeting father?" She asked as soon as her father sat down and settled himself in their room.

"Interesting indeed." Her father said as if he was in a daze.

"Interesting? How so? Was Mr. Thornton not helpful?" Margaret asked disappointment laced through her voice.

"No, he was very helpful. Quite a fine gentleman for a tradesman. I think he will set us up just fine. He told me of a few houses we could be comfortable in and some promising employment and reassured me that we had nothing to worry over. We would stay in Milton permanently. " Mr. Hale paused and Margaret thought that the end of their talk of Mr. Thornton. But Margaret could sense from her father's unease that it was not.

He continued quietly almost as if to himself alone, "Strange, very strange." He muttered to himself.

"What is strange Papa?" Margaret rose from her seat to be closer to her father while trying to see if Dixon was out of earshot. She had a feeling that if something was wrong, Dixon wouldn't take lightly to it.

"Although I'm confident that Mr. Thornton will do everything in his power to help keep us in Milton, I…well I'm not sure what it is Margaret. I know it is silly of me, but it was almost as if Mr. Thornton knew everything I was going to say. As soon as I'd start to ask a question, he'd assure me that everything would be taken care of. He had complete control over the meeting. I suppose it's just being in a strange place after so long that I feel in such a fog." Mr. Hale laughed off nervously.

"Of course father. The fear of an unknown place and people will do strange thing to you. You will feel right at home as soon as we are settled. And as far as Mr. Thornton, I'm sure he is just being a very good businessman. He'd have to be if he was in trade. You know how men of power can be." Margaret said reassuringly.

"Yes of course. I'm just a tired old man. I'll be off to bed Margaret." Mr. Hale, convincing as he sounded to Margaret couldn't fool her with the pallor expression upon his face.

As he went off to his own room, Margaret was left sitting in the room by herself thinking over what her father had just told her. Margaret couldn't deny the doubt she felt deep in her core. Margaret was sure that once she met Mr. Thornton for herself that she would laugh off her father's musings as fanciful.

As Margaret lay in bed that night one thought from her conversation with her father swam about in her head constantly, pushing away any possibility of sleep, _We would stay in Milton permanently. _

_Was it all absolute that Milton would shackle us forever?! What did this Mr. Thornton know of our future in Milton?! Was it all mistake leaving Helstone?!_

Eventually Margaret fell asleep just as the sun rose over the horizon. Her last thoughts were of the strange Mr. Thornton.

* * *

A/N: So this is my horror version of North and South. And if you can't tell by now I'm taking a few liberties and changing some things. Obviously nobody wants to read the same story over and over again. I'm trying to make this as spooky and horrific as possible while still trying to stay true to Elizabeth Gaskell and the BBC adaptation. I would love some feedback and constructive criticism. Thank you so much for reading and I'll try to update regularly.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Please read the first chapter again as I have made changes to it, if you have not already done so. Please review if you'd like!**

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 2

Margaret woke with a start as the curtains to her room were abruptly pulled apart to let in the afternoon light. Margaret could hardly keep her eyes open at the intruding light of day. Sitting up quickly she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes.

"Dixon, what time is it? It cannot be noon." Margaret muttered with a yawn.

"That it is mistress. Mr. Hale said not to wake you as you were more than likely tired from your exertions from yesterday." Dixon hurried about Margaret's room as she was to prepare Margaret for another busy day.

Margaret lay back against the crisp linen sheets not yet ready to face the day. She felt like she had been sleeping on the ground her back was so stiff, and her head, oh that she could keep her head from pounding excessively! It didn't help that the sun, although dim from behind the hazy day, was enough to cast Margaret on her side, away from the penetrating light.

"Where is Papa?" Margaret asked curling further under her blankets.

"He is in the parlor downstairs. He said for you to come down as soon as you woke."

"Dixon, why didn't you say so?" Margaret gasped as she sprung from her bed with renewed fervor to meet with her father. He was surely waiting on her for them to start their search for a house. She quickly put on the dress that Dixon had handed to her. As Dixon assisted Margaret in buttoning her dress Margaret haphazardly put her hair up.

"Has he been waiting long?"Margaret felt guilty that she had slept so long and left her father waiting on her. When they could have had a good start on the day hours ago!

"Aye mistress, he was up with the sun this morn." Dixon finished with Margaret's buttons and tried her best to fix the state of Margaret's hair.

"Oh, Dixon I wished you had woken me." Margaret pulled form Dixon's attentions looking for her shoes. Finding them and hastily putting them on she dressed herself for a chilly day. November had come and brought with it cold days, but in London, and so close to Milton, Margaret could already feel the biting weather and she knew they were to experience a good and proper winter. Not like the ones in Helstone.

Grabbing her scarlet coat and dawning a similar shaded cap, Margaret made her way to her father. After situating herself and making sure she didn't look as haphazard as she felt she searched for her father. She found him seated next to the fire in the lobby. There were few other guests strewn around the room in a similar fashion to her father, but her father sat alone. The sight urged Margaret to go to her father's side quickly. His profile was to her as she came closer and she could see he was gazing out of the window that overlooked the street. The green armchair seemed to engulf his whole form. Margaret was right by his side, but he did not take notice of her presence.

The flames from the roaring fire cast a light on his glasses shielding his eyes from her. For a moment Margaret thought it was not her father, but quickly chastised herself, for it was indeed her father! But the faraway look in his sight made Margaret question her own memory of her dear Papa. She knew the fitful night of sleep was dampening her senses.

"Papa, I'm sorry to keep you alone and waiting this morning." Margaret sat on the opposite chair across from her father. "Have you taken breakfast?"

"Oh, my dear Margaret! I'm afraid you've taken me quite by surprise. I'm afraid I was far away just now." Her father exclaimed a little bewildered. If he had only known that Margaret had slept just as he did, he would know she felt as in a similar state as he was this day. "No worries my dear, I would rather you get your rest for the day ahead."

"Thank you father. I'm quite ready whenever you are." Margaret was ready to go but her father bade her to sit awhile longer.

Mr. Hale reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a parcel. "I received a message from Mr. Thornton this morning." Margaret had almost forgotten! The very reason why she had such a terrible time last night, she remembered how thoughts of a man she never met before had invaded her mind and gave way to such wakeful dreams. She ignored the slight chill up her back that seemed to be congruent with Mr. Thornton these past days. "And surprisingly from my old college fellow Mr. Bell." Mr. Hale finished.

Here, Margaret's heart froze. If there was anyone she would like to avoid and never be in the same company with again, it was Mr. Bell. She remembered her father's friend from his visits when she was a child. Whenever he paid a visit to the Hales she wished more than anything to be in London with her aunt and cousin. It vexed her how he always knew when she would be at Helstone. There was something about Mr. Bell, but Margaret could never put her finger on what it was about this bachelor that made her detest him so.

He always teased Margaret endlessly. Which is expected of a god father but then he would look at her when he thought no one was looking. The way his gaze paralyzed her to silence. She would hide under her Mama's skirts when his gaze did not waver. Her parents naturally brushed it off to her shyness. But as Margaret grew older and had come into her own as a woman, she received the same stares again. This time he unabashedly gazed upon her form and smiled like he knew something she did not. He had been conveniently absent while her mother was ill and while news of her brother had spread throughout the parish. Margaret was glad he had made himself scarce, but knew sooner or later he would visit again. But to find that he had found them so soon as they arrived in London surprised Margaret.

Mr. Hale told Margaret of the nature of both letters unaware of the affect the news had on her. "Mr. Thornton wrote to me of a few promising places we could settle. He urged me to go to Milton-Northern, as did Mr. Bell. They both assured me that I could ascertain to a good many places where I will find success. Mr. Bell would like to meet with me as soon as we are settled. Oh, Margaret it does me good to know we shall have friends in Milton! Margaret? What is the matter?" Mr. Hale took notice of his daughter's pallor expression and downcast eyes.

"Nothing father, I am just more tired than I thought. I'm glad for your friends." She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes.

Accepting his daughter's excuse Mr. Hale continued with the contents of his letters. "Mr. Bell urged me to relay a message to you dear Margaret. You know he had always loved you as his own daughter. I told him of our situation and he urges you to seek employment under Mr. Thornton. You know Mr. Bell is Mr. Thornton's tenant? He runs Marlborough Mills, the cotton mill."

"No, I did not know that father." Margaret knew in that moment that any hope she had of Mr. Thornton and the kind of gentleman he might be was diminished with his acquaintance of Mr. Bell. She now felt as if Milton would be just as Helstone to her. As long as Mr. Bell was to make a part in her and her father's life in Milton, she could never be happy. Oh, hope is a fickle thing!

"Let us be off and get our work done." Mr. Hale stood up and put his arm out for his daughter to take. With a heavy heart, Margaret put her hand in the crook of her father's arm and held on for dear life.

"Very well father. Let us see the houses Mr. Thornton has suggested. Let's make haste, the sooner we find a house the sooner we can settle." Margaret stood determined, wanting to please her father more than anything. Regardless of her own feelings and fears she would do this.

* * *

After a full day of house hunting and finally settling on one that was tucked away in a corner of a damp tight street, Mr. Hale and Margaret chose a tiny three story apartment that would give them both separate rooms. There was enough space for the both of them and Dixon to live comfortably in. Although the first thing that her father could comment on was the state of the wallpaper and how he should like it to be changed to one more suited to Helstone. Margaret was happy to oblige her father this one accommodation.

Though the day was successful, Margaret was surprised at the state of Milton, an industrial town she expected, but one that was so dirty and poor was a complete shock to her. How could a town with a successful cotton business leave its workers living like paupers? She knew there wasn't much money to be made as a worker, but surely they could live in better circumstances when their masters lived more than comfortably. Margaret just couldn't see the logic in the way things worked in the North. At least the South had its virtue of good business sense.

Margaret and her father made their way back to the hotel. The air had gotten even colder then she anticipated and was anxious to get her father in where he could warm himself. Once they entered the hotel, a bell boy informed Mr. Hale that a Mr. Thornton had called on him, but left an hour ago.

"Oh, we missed him Margaret!" Mr. Hale exclaimed.

Margaret, silently thankful for the delay in a meeting, tried to tell her father he would surely call again, whether at the hotel or at Crampton. The young bell boy gave Mr. Hale a note from Mr. Thornton expressing his apologies that he had missed them.

After reading the note over, Mr. Hale looked to his daughter. "It seems you are right Margaret. Mr. Thornton will call on us as soon as we are settled."

Margaret smiled at her father, anticipating the inevitable visit from Mr. Bell's friend, Mr. Thornton. Surely with Mr. Thornton, a visit from her god father was not far away.

The next day, Margaret, Mr. Hale, and Dixon left the hotel to move into their new home. They had made preparations for the few furnishings they could keep to be delivered before they arrived. Boarding the train again, Margaret noticed she did not feel as she did when they were first on their way, away from Helstone. The hope she had once felt seemed to be withering away by the fear of her new life. Now that she had a better idea of what her new life would be.

They arrived in good time, which made Margaret thankful that they were not that far away from London after all. The train ride would certainly be quicker then the carriage from Crampton to London, she thought. _A day's journey surely would not keep her from her aunt and Edith if she wished to visit_! As the steam cleared, she saw the black figures move through the fog on the platform. The white swirls danced around the passerby's making an eerie sight to her still drowsy eyes. Margaret woke her father and Dixon in a daze, anxious to get off the train.

Margaret swung the door open, stepping into the cool night air. As the breath danced from her lips she could just make out the dark hues and textures of the old brick building. Tattered posters and signs hung torn and flapping in the air. As the station began to clear, and the train departed, she went to retrieve their bags. Looking back to see the train disappear into the fog Margaret couldn't help the uneasy feeling crawl up her spine. This was Milton, it was her home now. Swallowing her doubts she rejoined her father and Dixon, "Come father, we are here."

What Margaret thought was hope, now felt like the sensation that was fast becoming familiar to her, the feeling of fear.

When they arrived in front of their new home, boxes and boxes of their belongings were left by the front door. Dixon could not suppress the horror she felt having to live in such a place. She had her handkerchief to her nose as if the smell alone offended her. Margaret could see that the front door was open. Hastily, Margaret exited the carriage wanting to know the current situation of their belongings. In particular Margaret wanted to make sure what she kept of her mother was safe and sound.

Surprisingly, all the furniture was in its proper place and the desired boxes were ready to be distributed to their proper place.

"Just tell us where ta put them boxes miss." One man heaved a box on the floor in the entry, turning to speak to Margaret.

"Oh, please don't worry yourself I'm sure we could manage. It is late as it is." Margaret wasn't even sure which rooms would serve what purpose. She was fairly certain of the drawing room, and her own room, but her father had not decided which he would like.

"Sorry miss, you see, we've got orders from the master. He tol' us to make sure everything was good an' settled so ye don't have ta lift a finger." He said as if he really wanted to do as she said, but knew to go against the master's orders meant the chance of losing one's position.

"Mr. Thornton is your master?" Margaret was starting to wonder if there was anything the business man did not interfere with. Margaret wondered if she was being selfish. After all he was only trying to help her father. She just couldn't get Mr. Bell's penetrating gaze from her thoughts. She hoped after finally meeting with Mr. Thornton that she would see there was a difference between the two men. She hoped at least.

"Aye, he's my master. I'm his footman, I'm Nicholas Higgins." He extended his hand to Margaret. Margaret was taken back, staring at the outstretched hand to Mr. Higgins' face.

He took it back, wiping it on his shirt like it had been soiled. "Yer not from around here are you Miss?" He smiled kindly to her, he had not taken offense to what she didn't know.

"No, I'm not. I'm from the South. My name is Margaret Hale." She bowed her head in a show of introduction.

"Aye, the master said Mr. Hale was traveling far. So miss, where'd you like these?" He pointed to the boxes at their feet.

Just then Mr. Hale came into the open entry way with Dixon close behind. She still had the handkerchief to her nose.

"Father, this is Mr. Higgins. He works for Mr. Thornton," At the mention of Mr. Thornton, Margaret could see her father's face lighten. She felt a pang of envy in her stomach and didn't know what to make of it, "He wants to know where we want the boxes."

"The drawing room upstairs should do for now don't you think Margaret?" Her father replied stepping passed her to look about the house.

Margaret nodded to Nicholas as he took one of the boxes to haul up the stairs.

"Not so fast there!" Dixon yelled behind the man. She came forward and peered at the contents of the box as Higgins was struggling to hold it as it was. "_That _belongs in the kitchen. Follow me sir. I will tell you what to do with it."

Margaret tried to keep from laughing at the exasperated look on Higgins' face as he followed the haughty maid down another corridor. Margaret was pleased to see Dixon already taking to running the house.

Margaret followed her father upstairs into the drawing room. He stood in the middle peering around him at the unfamiliar surroundings. Seeing their furnishings from Helstone contrasting with the room made the Hales feel even more out of place in the Northern town of Milton.

"Oh Margaret, are we really to live here?" Mr. Hale exclaimed with blank dismay.

Margaret could hardly ignore the dreariness which the question was asked. She could scarcely convince herself that it was just the Northern climate and November weather that made them feel unwelcome.

"I'm sure it will be the death of me. Then you will not have to stay Margaret." Mr. Hale said, seeking for his daughter's sympathy. With no regard to her own.

Margaret couldn't comprehend an answer to her father's morbid turn of conversation. Instead she put her mind to work.

"Come father, unpack your books. That shall surely make you feel better." Margaret watched as her father slowly went to look for his prized possessions, while she got to unload the boxes that were already brought up. She took to separating all the items into the rooms where they belonged. So far Nicholas had done a good job of sorting them correctly, unless Dixon had not left his side.

Margaret moved the couches and bookshelves where she desired them to be, when she noticed the wallpaper was completely different then how she had left them only yesterday! She was sure they were green. Her father had specifically told her he wanted a yellow cream color to match the curtains from Helstone.

"Father, did you inform the landlord or Mr. Thornton of the wallpaper?"

"No, only you my dear. What is the matter?" He asked upon seeing her confused expression.

"The wallpaper has gone. Look someone has changed it." Margaret said bewildered. _Who could have known they were to be replaced, and in the exact same shade her father had required?_

"Well, that's one thing we will not have to worry over." Mr. Hale said, dismissing the mystery of the new wallpaper.

"I suppose, but Papa you are sure you told no one, not even in one of your letters?" Margaret did not like not knowing who knew to change the wallpaper when her father was adamant about not telling anyone but her.

Mr. Hale had resumed his work on his books and did not hear his daughters pleading.

The tingle up her spine that was starting to become familiar to Margaret crept on her once more_. How had they known? And who?_


	3. Chapter 3

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 3

To Margaret's surprise, unpacking and getting their new home to their comfort was done and over with within a few days time. As it was so small and cramped compared to their humble Helstone cottage, Margaret should have known that their few belongings would fit perfectly into the Crampton apartment. Margaret was pleased that the furnishings, books, and treasures of home had found their place in Milton. She wasn't sure when she and her father would come to feel the same kind of acceptance in the industrial town.

As Margaret looked around in the sitting room, which was much smaller than a whole width of a staircase in her aunt's home, she still wondered at the new wallpaper that instantly brightened the room. How grateful her Papa was that a little bit of Helstone familiarity had brightened the otherwise dank home. It had been three days passed when they had moved in and she still could not get the mystery of the wallpaper from her mind. She laughed at herself for letting such a small thing as room decorations to set her mind far from being at ease, but she could not help that someone seemed to know exactly what her father had desired without him saying a word to anyone but herself. She convinced herself many times that he must have simply forgotten that he had told someone.

But there was always that little part of her curious mind that thought that something was not right in this town. She knew that she had not given herself time to become accustomed to the ways of these Milton folk. She had walked to the market with Dixon every morning so she got a pretty clear view of the working life of the people. They seemed to accept her with open curiosity and wonder at the Southern strangers. Her father had already acquired students that he could tutor, which thankfully had kept him happy and busy.

Margaret had yet to find employment. On their journeys to market, Margaret inquired at local dress shops and alike if they were looking for hired help. They all seemed surprised that one such as Margaret, a lady, should want employment for herself. After the initial shock of such a request they all treated her like they would any a working class fellow. Margaret found she like this better and made her feel more accepted. Though Margaret understood that no one could afford to take on another employee she still felt downcast that she had not yet to find proper employment.

Even with all her troubles, Margaret purposely avoided her godfather's advice to go to Mr. Thornton to seek employment. As much as she knew it was her duty to her family to help financially, she could not justify herself in seeking an interview with Mr. Bell's acquaintance, even if it was strictly business.

Thankfully they had not received a call from either Mr. Bell or Mr. Thornton since they settled, but Margaret knew it would happen soon enough, and she tried to mentally prepare herself for the meeting.

It was on the fourth day of living in Milton that the Hales had received a note from Mrs. Thornton. Margaret and Dixon had just come from the market when Mr. Hale met them at the door, seemingly in bright spirits. Margaret reminded herself to count her blessing that her father had seemed content and happy with their new life.

"Margaret, my dear, we shall have a call from Mrs. Thornton this afternoon. She sends her apologies that her son cannot join them, but she and Miss Thornton shall attend if we accept." Mr. Hale said in all one breath.

"By all means father, we shall accept. I'll prepare with Dixon for their visit." Margaret was just relieved that she could put off meeting with Mr. Thornton just yet.

"I say, that Mr. Thornton must be a very busy man. We have settled for well past two days and still no call. You know he is to be one of my pupils Margaret?"

"I did not father. What has a tradesman in need for reading and education? I would have thought a mind like his to be on numbers and figures." Margaret noted she sounded even haughty to her own ears. After all, she did not know Mr. Thornton. But after she saw the way the workers lived, she could easily imagine Mr. Thornton and all the other business men setting themselves high on their pedestals. When she really thought about it, she pictured them to be just like Mr. Bell. All tradesman and businessmen looked down at others and only leant a helping hand to further their own desires. In her eyes, they were no better than her godfather. Margaret shuddered at the thought.

"How you seem to know Mr. Thornton's character when you haven't even met the man. I pity him for your closed minded thoughts. Why, he was the one who welcomed us and helped us when we were strangers to him."Mr. Hale said in defense of his friend.

"I know he has been kind to us father, I'm sorry I doubted your friend. As you said, I have yet to meet him."Margaret regretted speaking ill of the one person who offered friendship to her father, in spite of everything.

"You still have not sought an interview from him?"

"No, I do have some promising positions." Margaret lied.

"By all means it wouldn't hurt you to seek him out all the same. He might even have better suggestions to where would suit you better."

"I promise Papa, I will ask after him by Mrs. Thornton and see what she thinks."

"A splendid idea."

With a pat on her head, Mr. Hale made himself scarce in his study while his daughter and Dixon made ready for their guests. Margaret came into the kitchen with an already working Dixon. The maid had her mixture ready to be rolled out.

"Here I will do that Dixon."Margaret stepped forward reaching for the rolling pin.

"As you wish." Dixon handed her the rolling pin rather hesitantly, seriously doubting that the lady could roll a batter out, let alone find a job. She didn't like the idea of Mrs. Hale being happy that her only daughter would have to be a working girl and work in the kitchen as a common maid! The thought made the reliable servant loathe Mr. Hale all the more. Oh how she wished Master Frederick were here, he would make things right, she was sure.

Watching Margaret struggling to roll out the batter Dixon asked, "So you told Mr. Hale you had some promising positions did you?" Dixon knew it to be a farce. Everywhere the young misses went she was turned down.

"I confess I did. Dixon what shall I do? I'm to call on Mr. Thornton if I do not find something!" Margaret exclaimed, rolling pin in hand and flour already over her dress. Dixon noted she would have to teach Margaret how to help properly if she was to share the kitchen duties with her.

"If it was your brother in your position he would have seen Mr. Thornton first thing." Dixon said, taking over Margaret's work.

The comment stung at Margaret's heart, always to be compared to her brother even with all his faults. But she knew Dixon was right.

"I know, I told Papa I would ask Mrs. Thornton when I should go to the mill." That Mrs. Thornton was to be there that afternoon and Margaret would have a set appointment to meet the mill owner, made Margaret doubt her own courage. Surely, she could face this as all other girls in her position have had to do. Many a girl would do this for their family gladly. She knew as much as she did not want to, she had a duty to her father, and her mother. She wished more than ever that her mother were here with them. How different would things have been if Fred had not gone to the Navy, and her mother not become sick, or her father didn't doubt his purpose in life? Where would she be? She might have married Henry and gone to live with her Aunt Shaw and Cousin Edith to comfort her in her loss. What was to be Margaret's purpose? She figured that if she didn't take control of her own decisions she would never know. She would never rely on anyone but herself from now on.

* * *

As the preparations were finished down to the last detail, the Hales were ready to receive the Thornton women. At first Margaret did not know what to make of them. The sister, Fanny, wore a silk dress that had every color in it. Margaret wondered how such a gaudy dress could manage to look so elegant. She wondered at the beauty of Miss Thornton, her white blonde hair was in tight ringlets about her porcelain face. She did not smile, Margaret wondered if she would crack like glass if she managed to show emotion. At seeing Fanny's stern look Margaret reminded herself to smile every day for the rest of her life to her heart's content, wrinkles be damned! She would never wish to seem so fragile.

Both Mrs. and Miss Thornton walked through the sitting room as if floating on air. Margaret was made very aware of her homely appearance and dress as she hoped that she still didn't have flour in her dark hair.

Compared to Mrs. Thornton, Fanny was the sweetest lady she had ever be held. Besides the dark brow of Mrs. Thornton, Margaret could see that her piercing dark eyes could strike fear into anyone that she wished to set her mind to. Her black dress and black hair were a stark contrast to her daughter's. Margaret wondered how they could be related. But like Fanny, Mrs. Thornton couldn't fathom a smile. As all were settled on the settees, her father seemed unaware of the harshness that these women's presence caused. And they hadn't even spoken!

"I am glad you have come to visit us Mrs. Thornton. I am sorry your son could not join us." Mr. Hale said sadly.

"My son is a busy man Mr. Thornton. He asked me to come in his stead."

"That is very kind of him, wasn't it Margaret?" Mr. Hale turned his attention to his daughter as if to say, "See, I told you."

Margaret ignored the silent scolding from her father, "It is very kind of Mr. Thornton to send his mother in his…absence." Margaret knew it sounded cold and bitterly regretted it after receiving a hard glare from Mr. Thornton's mother.

After a few uncomfortable moments of silence Fanny abruptly raised her voice. "Miss Hale, how are you faring in Milton? Is it to your liking?" To Margaret's initial shock Fanny sounded even more heavenly that she looked. Her sweet, soft voice gave no indication that she did not incline after her under false pretence.

"I like it very well Miss Thornton. I admit that I was initially shocked at the difference between the South and the North. But I have been made to feel very welcome." Margaret said with true conviction.

"How does the South differ from the North, Miss Hale? I'm sure I'd like to know." Mrs. Thornton cut in bitterly. Margaret could see Fanny visibly shrink in her mother's demanding presence.

"I only meant Mrs. Thornton, that our ways are quite different. I'm not used to the bustle of a working industrial town, but I am gladdened by the kindness I have been shown here, especially by the workers."

"What is a lady doing mingling with the workers? You cannot mean to make friends with them?" Mrs. Thornton snapped as if she thought the workers were meant for only one purpose, to be hands in her son's mill.

"I do." Margaret said determined. "In my task to find employment I have met many a decent people, these…hands, as you call them. I met Mr. Higgins. Mr. Thornton's man and he seemed more than happy to help."

Both Mrs. Thornton and Fanny seemed genuinely shocked at learning that a lady should have a need to seek employment. Surely they would have been told of their situation by Mr. Thornton? But Mrs. Thornton would not let shock stop her from injuring further on her hostess.

"Mr. Higgins is on orders from my son. If there is anyone who you should thank for the kindness shown to you, it should be him."

"As I have yet to meet him, I will make sure to put credit where it is due."As finality Margaret bowed her head at Mrs. Thornton. Margaret knew she was trying to intimidate her, but in her father's house and presence she would not be belittled.

Mrs. Thornton straightened her posture and turned her whole body to Mr. Hale as a show of dismissal. Margaret did not mind.

With her mother fully occupied in conversation with Mr. Hale, Fanny took her chance to continue her interrupted conversation with Miss Hale.

"I do admire you Miss Hale. Having to move to a strange place and so fast make friends. I confess I am curious to the South and the ways not of the North." Margaret could barely hear Fanny's low whisper, obviously trying to keep her mother's attention from returning. But Margaret couldn't help but lean in further in complete understanding. She was intrigued by Miss Thornton.

"Thank you Miss Thornton. There really is not much to say about the South. I meant what I said about the hustle and bustle of the working class, they have been very kind."

"Is it true you seek employment? Forgive me but I thought you were a lady."

Margaret had to laugh at Fanny's naivety, "Well I was bred as a lady, but circumstances have forced me to find means of a salary."

Fanny seemed taken back at Margaret's honest words but was completely intrigued by this Southern woman. "I wish I could be as brave as you. I always feared the workers. Or at least they have feared us."

"Why have they a need to fear you Miss Thornton? You seem kindhearted enough." Margret wanted to say that she shouldn't scowl as she does and try to smile more but she knew better.

"Oh I did not mean…that is they don't fear per say, they just…Oh! They don't understand my brother!" Fanny stumbled over her words as if they weren't hers to say.

"Is your brother that horrible of a master?" Margaret couldn't help but ask after a man she knew she would have to speak to over business matters. She feared he was a harsh employer and would scare her off at the first chance to show her worth.

"Oh! No he is very fare, but I dare say the hands avoid him at all costs. I suppose it's just his presence that puts them off." Fanny seemed flustered talking about her brother, but Margret couldn't help but inquire further.

"Do you think your brother would grant me an interview Miss Thornton?" Margaret spoke extra low to avoid Mrs. Thornton.

"You? Work in the mill?" Fanny snorted derisively. After seeing the shameful face of Miss Hale, Fanny quickly recovered. "I'm sure my brother would be most kind to speak with you Miss Hale, but isn't there any other way that you…?"

Fanny stopped after Margret simply shook her head, suddenly Margret felt very low compared to Miss Thornton. Fanny took liberty and reached across the hold Margaret's hand that rested on her lap.

"I am sorry Miss Hale. I know you have lost your mother recently. You must miss her terribly."

"I do, thank you Miss Thornton. But like I said, there is no other way and I must seek employment." Margaret liked being so open with Miss Thornton and hoped she did not seem too forward with her honesty, but by the way they spoke to each other and Fanny showing true remorse with her actions, Margaret knew that wasn't the case with this fine lady.

"If you come by tomorrow around two, I'm sure my brother will be glad to hear your case. I will speak to him for you." Fanny said with a bit of an heir to her.

"Thank you Miss Thornton."Margaret smiled at Miss Thornton's determination.

"Please, call me Fanny."

* * *

_My Dear Edith,_

_Oh, how I have missed you these passed weeks. I confess with the task of preparing and moving to Milton, I have let time slip by me. I hope this letter finds you better. I am so sorry that I cannot be there with you in your time of mourning, but you know my responsibility is with my father. He still mourns for mother. His spirits have been made better by his pupils who have kept him busy and felt a sense of purpose. I dare confess that I do not know how to help him. _

_I have ventured out and sought employment, but there is nothing available. Mr. Bell urges me to go to Mr. Thornton who owns Marlborough Mills. You remember Mr. Bell, Edith? You met him when you visited us in Helstone. I was relieved that you took such a fright to him as I did. I knew it was not my fanciful imagination, as Mama put it. _

_You will think me silly dear cousin, but the thought of Mr. Thornton frightens me. And I have not even met him! But I have met his lovely sister. Edith you would adore her. She almost reminds me of you, she is of such a sweet temperament. She has set up a meeting between me and her brother, so I shall meet him tomorrow, then I will know what kind of a master he is. As long as he is true friend of my father, how can I treat him unjustly? _

_I have thought of Henry lately. I know you would scold me for even writing his name but I cannot help but think if he had truly loved me, we would be married by now. I suppose I should be grateful for the way things have come about. I would have hated to be in a loveless marriage. Oh! Here I am talking about marriages when you are missing your Captain Lennox!_

_You must think me of a childish nature. After all that you have been through, here I am fretting over inconsequential things. I do long to see you soon Edith. Please write to me and tell me how you fare. Give Aunt Shaw my love, for I do not know when I will see you all next. Wish me luck dear cousin. Even though this letter will reach you after I have met Mr. Thornton, it gives me strength to write this letter to you._

_With love,_

_Margaret_

After Margaret sealed her letter and snuffed out her candle, she climbed into her cold bed. The nights had turned freezing in Milton, which did nothing to quell the fear in Margaret's heart to what was to come in the morning. Margaret had received a letter from Fanny, not an hour after she and her mother left, saying that her brother would gladly accept a meeting with her.

Margaret dreaded that Fanny would remember her promise but was also grateful to her new friend. She had written her letter to Edith because it was well over due, but also Margaret could not shake the nerves from her limbs. She felt a little better writing down her fears, but still anticipated a restless night of sleep.

Margaret wondered if Mr. Thornton would be more like his sister or his mother. Would he be, as she feared, just like Mr. Bell? Or would he show compassion to her as he did her father? Margaret would not know until the morning, and with that thought she fell into a fitful sleep, filled with disturbing dreams.

As in all dreams, the will to escape is all but impossible. There is always an unknown force keeping you from escaping the clutches of fear. As Margaret fled through the streets of Crampton she felt that she was being followed. Dark windows and empty alleys shifted and made Margaret's senses unknown in the already unfamiliar streets. She didn't know where home was so she followed her legs wherever they took her.

Turning a corner and collapsing against high wooden gates, Margaret fell in a heap. The doors before her stood towering over her, but in her heart she knew she had to get passed them, and then she would be safe! The green painted doors were chipped and worn but she still could not break them down. With all her might she pushed, hoping to be free from whatever was pursuing her.

Looking up to see if she could go over the gate, she saw words upon the gate but couldn't make them out. All she knew was that she would be safe once enclosed behind them.

She peered over her shoulder once more and upon seeing Mr. Bell approach her from a dark alley, her heart hammered within her chest. The closer he came the more she wanted to scream, but couldn't.

Looking back through the gate she could see her father, pale as a ghost, but he was talking to someone. The stranger had his broad back to her but she could see he was taller than her father and he had dark hair. Everything was dark in Milton, even her father seemed more suited to Milton pallet standing with this stranger. She wanted him to move away from that man. If only she could get passed these gates and go to him! She opened her mouth to call to him, but no sound came out of Margaret's quivering lips. The dark man had turned her father from her. She was frantic! She felt the loss of her father as if he had forgotten all about her or died!

Margaret frighteningly stole one more look over her shoulder, her vision blinded by a presence right behind her. Mr. Bell had come for her and he found her in Milton! The urge to scream was too much for Margaret as she looked into her godfather's dark eyes. As he put a hand possessively on her shoulder Margaret woke up.

With a heave she sat bolt upright unable to catch her breath. The night had turned stormy and the rain fell in great big drops on the roof. The sound drowned out her laboring breaths as she tried to forget what she had just dreamt about. The image of her godfather so close to her, she could swear she felt his breath on her cheek, would not leave her mind. The rain against her window made soft, shifting shadows throughout her room. It made Margaret even more unsettled with the relentless downpour of the rain.

After regaining her composure and trying to go to sleep once again, Margaret could have sworn she saw the shadow of a figure pass by her window, but as she fell asleep she didn't know whether it was real or part of another dream that would keep her from sleep this night.


	4. Chapter 4

I Dare Not Hope Ch: 4

The incessant rain did not stop pounding on the Hale's roof the whole night. Margaret woke again, after falling asleep with the memory of a shadowy figure by her window. Surely she had dreamt that. Margaret could hardly try to forget her wakeful dreams or ignore the dancing shadows playing on her bedroom wall, casting images of faces and specters that fuelled her fearful imaginings. Being awake for the second time that night, she fought the urge to light a candle to ease her emotions. She would not waste lighting a candle for her silly musings in the middle of the night. But still, as Margaret lay pondering her dream, she doubted she could forget it so easily or feel at ease with the warmth that a light would give her.

She feared, now more than ever, going to see Mr. Thornton. How would the man himself compare to the figure she saw in her dreams? She thought obsessively over the image of her father being shielded by Mr. Thornton's form. In the dream Margaret felt at ease by his presence. The real fear, she remembered was when her godfather had laid his icy hand on her trembling shoulder. She was glad to be awake from her nightmare. Now if she could only get back to sleep. She needed all the rest she could get, for tomorrow was a big day for Margaret Hale.

* * *

Margaret's eyes were still closed, but she could see the contrast of night and day behind her lids. No more could she hear rain, but the soft chirping of some bird outside her window. She let herself lazily open her eyes to the new day before her. All at once she realized that today was when she would meet Mr. Thornton. She hoped Fanny hadn't led on about her brother's character. Margaret huffed to herself. Even if Mr. Thornton was a harsh man, she would face him with equal determination, her family would expect nothing less from her, nor would she doubt her own character and strength.

Margaret rose from the comfort of her bed, stretching sore muscles that seemed to ache from lack of calm. The tense night would weigh heavy on her mind today. Straining her neck over her shoulder, Margaret peered out of her window that had evidence of last night's storm, dripping with the left over dew. Margaret remembered the terrifying vision of a form at her window. She knew she must have been dreaming, for her room was two stories up. She could clearly see the top of Marlborough Mills from her bedroom.

The sight of the industrial town with its dark buildings and jagged roof tops made Margaret miss home. For the first time since her mother's death and moving from Heltone, Margaret could see how such a place could be viewed as an oasis compared to the bustling town of Milton. She knew how her father must have been missing his old parish, especially with the loss of his wife added to the sorrow. But this is where they were now, and Margaret was steadfastly determined to make it home as well.

It must have been fairly early, since Dixon had not come to wake her mistress. Margaret pulled on her robe to go down stairs. Upon opening her door, Margaret could hear their maid in the kitchen. Dixon is up early too, she thought, the rain must have kept everyone awake. Climbing down the rickety stairs, which Margaret had grown accustomed too, she could now tell which floor boards would protest under her feet when she walked across it, she found Dixon in the kitchen. The maid's back was to Margaret as she entered and lightly knocked on the door. The faint tapping from Margaret's gentle touch, startled Dixon with a great yelp.

"There you finally are! You gave me a fright young mistress." Dixon said, still hurriedly trying to complete her task.

"What are you doing Dixon? You are up early to be baking." Margaret replied curiously.

Dixon became flustered all over again, "Oh, that man! To be here so early, with not so much as a warning to his visit. Your father has me to his tasks early for his _friend_." Dixon spat out the word friend as if she had a taste in her mouth she wanted to be rid of.

"Father has company? Who?" Margaret didn't know why she felt a sudden knot in her stomach. Ever since last night she had felt uneasy. To tell the truth, Margaret couldn't say she felt at ease at all while in Milton.

"That Mr. Thornton! Said he had an appointment he had to keep. Though I'm not sure it was with Mr. Hale, he seemed just as surprised as I was to have a visitor so soon this morn, but I led him up. He's with your father now as we speak." Dixon informed Margaret of their visitor, unaware at the horror Margaret felt at the unexpected presence of the mill owner.

"Dixon, what time is it?!" Margaret asked in a state of shock.

"Why, its past noon. Your father said to let you sleep through the morn again."

"Dixon, I had an appointment with Mr. Thornton early this morning! You should have woken me. I missed it, that is why he is here now. Oh no!" Margaret put her hand to her head to keep from crying out. She slept through the appointment, how she will ever meet him now! With his perception of herself already tainted by her tardiness. He will think me no more than a spoiled lady, not fit to work in one of his mills.

Dixon looked up at Margaret's cry of distress. Her mouth hung open, for once not knowing what to say. "You best get dressed mistress. They'll be waiting on you."

With that, Margaret leaped up the stairs, clutching onto her nightgown so as not to trip up in her hastiness. Her heart beat faster with the adrenaline of the situation. If her father knew, he would be disappointed, she knew that. Questions danced through her mind. Fighting for dominance as she tried to sort how it all could go so wrong.

Coming to the top of the stairs, Margaret could see the door to her father's study open slowly. She tried to make it passed the door undetected, but her father's voice carried out into the stairwell as the light from the room showed her to the occupants inside. Her father had opened the door wide while his face was still turned to whoever held his attention. As the door stood fully open Margaret stood in the hallway, in the full light, knowing she was seen. The occupant that was on the other side of the threshold of the entrance to her father's study, stared harshly at Margaret. If hate had a face, it would be this man. All in a moments glance Margaret could feel the weight of the glare that was directed towards her. Even as her father neglected to notice that his friend's attentions were distracted, Margaret wished her father would turn to see her, to save her from out of the hold this man's cold eyes had on her.

The man stood, and Mr. Hale seeing his friend was distracted turned to see where Mr. Thornton's gaze was held. Upon seeing the state of his daughter's dress, he shut the door quickly behind him stepping into the hall to shield his daughter. Just as the door closed, bringing darkness back over Margaret, she could just make out the blue ice from under the stern brow of Mr. Thornton.

"Margaret! What do you mean coming out here in your night clothes?!" Mr. Hale asked harshly.

"I woke late. I didn't know Mr. Thornton was here. I'm sorry, I'll go dress." Margaret turned to go to her room. The blush on her cheeks could be mistaken for her rushed flight up the stairs. But Margaret knew the cause was from a pair of stern blue eyes. Heat radiated up to her cheeks making her feel all the more flustered. She passed it off as embarrassment at her lack of punctuality and not being seen in proper attire.

"And another thing, why didn't you tell me you were meeting with Mr. Thornton here? If you feel ashamed of having to seek work Margaret, you know that you will not receive judgment from me." Mr. Hale told is daughter with a softer tone.

"Mr. Thornton said he was to come here?" Margaret asked, coming down from a step.

"Well, yes. He didn't specify when you two were to meet, but I told him I would wake you. But he quickly assured me to not trouble you or myself. He's been here ever since." Mr. Hale smiled.

Margaret was dumfounded. Why would Mr. Thornton say he was to meet her at her home when she was to meet him at his? She assumed he didn't want to embarrass her father with her lack of manners, she was grateful for the thought on her father's feelings. But she still had to face him, and they would both know she was in the wrong. With no more time to waste she went into her room to dress herself properly to meet Mr. Thornton formally.

* * *

As Margaret entered the room and shut the door behind her, the two men who had been waiting for her, stood to greet her. Now, in a white dress with her hair pulled into a perfect bun, Margaret stood proudly in front of her father and his friend. She wouldn't look Mr. Thornton in the eye yet, still reeling from the memory of the first glance with their powerful hold.

"Ah, Margaret, this is Mr. Thornton." Her father formally greeted them. "And this is my daughter, Margaret."

Mr. Thornton took one massive stride forward to eliminate the space between the two of them. He held his hand out in front of her. She could feel his gaze on the top her head, as he was at least one foot taller than her, and towered over her like a shadow.

Margaret gazed at the offered hand, and remembered her meeting with Mr. Higgins, how he had held his hand out in similar fashion but seemed to take it away with a bit of annoyance after she had not taken it. Margaret had the feeling she had caused him offence, so as to not repeat the same injury she reached her hand forward shakily to meet with his. She felt no awkwardness; he was here on business, for her sake at least. Mr. Thornton was in more of a state of shock at the contrast of the wild, flustered woman in the hall, to this dignified young lady before him. He felt sure he would play his part of the overbearing master when met with his teacher's daughter, but soon found himself willing to do the bidding of the young lady if she had commanded it.

She held her hand hovering by his, afraid to take the grip fully. He obliged her, thinking her haughty and took the offered hand into his, squeezing it slightly.

To Margaret's amazement, he had felt warm to the touch. That a man with such a cold demeanor could radiate heat, made the knot in her stomach lessen its hold. Finally, she looked up meeting his gaze and found the same stern eyes as before, but a twitch of his lips made his gaze falter on her and then turned to her father. Margaret was thankful for the moment to catch her breath and her senses.

Her father bade them to sit, while Margaret poured herself a cup of tea. Her father and Mr. Thornton had resumed a previous conversation started before her arrival. Returning to the group, Margaret sat across from Mr. Thornton. She could gaze at him to her leisure since his attentions were with her father. Besides the eyes that had held her in place the moment she saw them, Mr. Thornton seemed a normal man. Tall and dark, he held himself with pride which was evident in the way he held his focus and gave his opinion knowingly. The brow that covered the blue eyes tensed in thought at something said. While the mouth, with its thin lips, held firm.

He seemed in habit of authority but in the presence of her father he seemed to give over that rule as any young pupil would.

"I am glad you find the house to your liking." Mr. Thornton had said with a baritone voice that rattled Margaret's being. Mr. Thornton had been sure of his instinct that this house would do very well for Mr. Hale and his daughter. But upon seeing Margaret in the flesh, felt that maybe the homely Crampton would not do for a lady such as Margaret. Her dignified way of moving, even when pouring herself a cup of tea, had transfixed his mind completely. A strand of her hair had fallen repeatedly from behind her ear. He watched, transfixed as she showed no signs of frustration at having to keep pulling the strand behind her ear with her milky white hand.

"Margaret has done all of the arranging and redecorating." Mr. Hale broke through his daughter's and his pupil's inner thoughts, bringing them back to room.

"Then, I hope Miss Hale, that you find the house to your satisfaction." Mr. Thornton peered over to Margaret, hoping that he had done well in his choice for them. Although, she was completely unaware of the fact of his inner turmoil.

"It is very well, thank you Mr. Thornton. My father and I are more than pleased here." Margaret couldn't look directly at Mr. Thornton with her admiration, instead turning her gaze to her father.

Mr. Thornton was sure that he would not like her this morning, after dismissing their meeting, but now could not repress his admiration of her and her quiet way of expression.

He was angry, to be sure, when she had not shown herself at their appointed time at the mill. He questioned Fannie's insight to this Miss Hale, and questioned his sister's good opinion of the woman. After waiting for half an hour he decided to make his way to Crampton, if not as an excuse to see his new friend but to bring about Mr. Hale's daughter's lack of propriety. He had made a good friend of Mr. Hale and didn't wish to see him sink lower because of a frivolous daughter. Mr. Thornton took it upon himself to show the error of her ways. Lady be damned, she would know the ways of Milton conventions!

And seeing her in nothing but her robe and night shift, hair around her face, cheeks red, huffing from exertion, she looked like a wild thing, springing from a trap. He had held his firm opinion of her once she had shown herself in that fashion. He was never one to be wrong once his mind was set on something. Yet, here she was, making him doubt everything he was sure to find in her as faults. The way in which she spoke to her father, with such decorum and utter love for the older man, made Mr. Thornton realize that Fanny had spoken truly of the woman who had befriended his young sister.

"I am glad Milton has passed the taste of the South." Mr. Thornton said proudly.

"Yes, the North is certainly very different from our Southern ways, but we have managed. Haven't we Margaret?"

Margaret merely nodded.

"Mr. Bell informed me well I think, of your Southern lifestyle." Mr. Thornton confessed.

Margaret went rigid. Remembering her dream like it was real. She could feel the cool touch on her shoulder as if he was standing behind her. She shook away her sudden tremble and stood refill her father's tea.

"I do so long to see my old college fellow." Mr. Hale exclaimed. "It has been years, Margaret was but a girl the last time she saw her godfather."

"They are not close then?" Mr. Thornton asked Mr. Hale.

"No, by all means. Not since…" Margaret could tell her father was distressed thinking on Fred, she was quick to intervene when Mr. Thornton caught his distress and plowed on.

"It's just that he spoke so knowingly of Margaret, of the lady she is now, that I thought they had been close."Mr. Thornton's information of Mr. Bell caused Margaret such distress that she longed to change the topic to anything other than her godfather.

"I am distressed Mr. Thornton at the change of the wallpaper." Margaret turned quickly on them, with no signs of her reason for the turn of the conversation.

Mr. Thornton gazed at her quizzically. The brows that she noticed before, had creased with agitation.

"I am sorry Miss Hale if the wallpaper isn't to your liking."

"It is not the state of the wallpaper rather how they came to be that disturbs me." Margaret said not breaking her cold demeanor.

Where was the delicate lady? Mr. Thornton wondered.

"I do not understand Miss Hale." Mr. Thornton stood to tower over her, even from across the room, with her father in between them, he seemed to have a hold over her, not just with his gaze, but his broad shoulders and rigid back standing straight before her. Margaret faltered just the slightest but pushed on with agitation of thoughts of Mr. Bell.

"I mean, that we gave no indication that we would like them to be changed and yet they are different."

"Surely, your father informed me of his wishes before you moved into Crampton." Mr. Thornton urged. Why was she pushing this so hard, meddling in affairs that do not concern her? Affairs that would be best if let alone. Mr. Thornton was sure that the lady he thought dignified would cause him more trouble than he wanted to deal with. This Miss Hale would tempt him in more ways than one.

"He told no one but myself." Margaret didn't know what compelled her to argue the topic of the wallpaper, only that she needed someone to help her understand the mystery other than her father. But the way Mr. Thornton looked as if he knew exactly what she was speaking of, distressed her. She wished she hadn't brought the subject back up, especially to Mr. Thornton. So what did it matter that her father's wishes were mysteriously granted? He was happy, that should have been all the mattered!

"How can that be possible Miss Hale? How could I have known otherwise?"The way in Mr. Thornton spoke to her as if she was a child and he the adult, set her blood to boil. It reminded her of how Fred spoke to her.

"Indeed, I had wondered the same thing."Margaret said in the same fashion.

Just as both seemed to wish to end their interrogation of one another, Mr. Hale broke from his sorrow to try and make peace.

"What does it matter, Margaret? The wallpaper is what we wanted, however it came to be. Maybe it was my forgetful mind, maybe I had written to Mr. Thornton or even Mr. Bell." Her father implored her to drop the subject, and speak on it no more. Her eyes stung with tears at the sight of her father in distress. He seemed to be doing better, but she knew there would be moments harder than others.

Margaret wished Mr. Thornton far away from here.

After a silence, Mr. Thornton spoke again, trying to make his voice softer to the room and the changed feelings.

"Miss Hale, I came to speak with you on a business matter. Fanny has told me all about your situation and your hopes in a place at Marlborough Mills." He paused, seemingly trying to make sure of something. "But I cannot hire you Miss Hale. You are a lady, despite circumstance and I cannot justify having a lady work in a mill alongside the other hands."

"Mr. Thornton," Margaret said with still a haughty pride in her voice, "I am thankful you still find me socially acceptable, despite my…circumstances. But it is beyond that now. I need employment to assure mine and my father's comfort. I would urge you to reconsider."

"Do you even know what it takes to run a mill, Miss Hale?"The edge to his voice had returned and Margaret was aware that she wasn't treading lightly.

"Well, no. I admit I am ignorant of the ways of business. But surely one could learn."

"No, Miss Hale. I need experienced workers in my mill. I can't afford to have other hands slow down their work to help you. Which I am sure you will need." He said firmly.

"I see. Then we have no more to discuss, Mr. Thornton?"

"No, Miss Hale, unless you wish to berate me on other matters of decoration, then I will take my leave." Mr. Thornton stood up quickly, turning to shake hands with Mr. Hale. A small but sincere smile was given in friendship, but as he turned to Margaret the thin, firm lips returned.

"Miss Hale, I do hope after this we shall meet as friends." And not go poking into matters that she would do well to stay out of, he thought.

"That depends on the circumstances of friendship Mr. Thornton." With a curt nod and bow, Margaret saw Mr. Thornton to the door, showing Mr. Thornton that even as a lady she could hold her own. Despite being turned down from yet another job, Margaret told herself to hold her head high and trudge on through the unknown, even with the dismissal of Mr. Thornton, who she knew she could never hold in high esteem.

* * *

That same night, as Mr. Thornton returned to his home from the mill, he found his mother and sister sitting quietly in a darkened room, working on their embroidery. The familiar clack of the shoes on the hard wood told Mrs. Thornton that her son was finally home. Mrs. Thornton wore her usual black silk, not a thread out of place. Looking from her needlework, she glanced at the door to see her son hesitantly walk towards them. All he wanted to do was collapse onto his soft bed and forget all about the day he had had. Especially his meeting with the proud Miss Hale. He knew after their introduction that she already knew too much. At least too much for her to start questioning and keeping a keener eye on what went on in Milton. She had a sharper eye than her father, he would grant her that. That she was also the most beautiful creature he ever saw made no difference to him. At least that was what he tried to convince himself all day since seeing her.

"How is the mill?" His mother asked, returning her attentions to her task.

"Fine, as usual mother, no need to worry." He came up behind her and put a hand to her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"Something is bothering you." Mrs. Thornton wasn't asking, she knew her son was somehow in distress.

"It is nothing you need to bother yourself with." Changing the subject, he spoke to Fanny. "I met your friend today, Fanny." He said lightly.

"Oh, how is Miss Hale? I do hope you have treated her fairly John, as I rightly told her you would." Fanny said with a smile that brightened the dim room.

"I did not hire her if that is what you mean." Her brother said with indifference as he took off his jacket and loosened his cravat.

"Why ever not John? She is a good, trustworthy lady!" Fanny said standing up, leaving her embroidery on the chair.

"That is exactly why Fanny, because she is a lady!" John retorted back at his sister.

"No, there is some other reason! We can trust her John, I know we can!" Fanny said desperately.

"No! We involve no one, especially strangers to Milton!"

Fanny left in a huff, but before ascending the stairs she turned to her brother and said with a snarl, "You'll be sorry." And she went to her room.

After Fanny's absence, Mrs. Thornton stood by her son next to the window. The storm had returned and with it another sleepless night for John Thornton. It was safe to say he never had a goods nights rest in his life, but lately he had put it off completely. So much was hanging in the balance, so much to risk.

"What is going on?" Mrs. Thornton asked, in her deep voice that was the polar opposite of her daughter's. "Why trouble yourself over a clergyman's daughter?"

"You know that is not it, mother." John turned from her, unwillingly to look his mother in the eye while lying to her. He knew she would see through him anyways.

"Do not get caught up by a penniless girl." His mother warned.

"I won't! I am not easily caught, but I will not have Miss Hale spoken of in that way. You know how it offends me. Besides, I know Miss Hale would have no wish to try and catch me. I made sure of that tonight." Mr. Thornton would not tell his mother that he was afraid of Miss Hale, and what she might know or learn to know. For now he would keep her safe, and hope she didn't try anything foolish.

Mr. Thornton bid his mother goodnight. After both her children were in their rooms, Mrs. Thornton stayed in the dark room, pondering over Miss Hale. Despite her son's wishes, she would hate Miss Hale.

A/N: A special thank you to eknight07 who gave me some helpful tips and advice with the character of Margaret Hale. I know she is not exactly true to her character as in the book, but this has been done on purpose to suit my story. Nonetheless, I am trying to make her a strong and likeable character to the original. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint with the fateful meeting between Margaret and Thornton. Please review! (:


	5. Chapter 5

I Dare Not Hope Ch: 5

It had been two weeks since Margaret had seen Mr. Thornton and been refused by him to work in his mill. He had come and gone to the house to visit her father for their studies, but Margaret made sure to keep hidden, helping Dixon in the kitchen as much as she could. Though Dixon benefited with the extra help, she couldn't help but notice why her mistress was suddenly eager to help with house work. She let it be as it was not her place to question.

Anytime Dixon had needed some ingredient or such from the market, Margaret would quickly offer her services. She was relieved for any excuse to leave the house, if only to avoid the ever present Mr. Thornton in her home.

After Margaret had seen Mr. Thornton to the door over two weeks ago, she thought and wondered over the kind of man Mr. Thornton made himself to be. It was evident the proud mill owner was aware of the power he held and wielded this knowledge to his liking. But to Margaret's surprise, he seemed to cast all that aside in rejecting her plea to work in his mill. Whether he felt she was not good enough to be another one of his hands to command or simply because he thought her too much of a lady, was a mystery to Margaret.

Still, no such luck could be had for Margaret. Every where she went she was turned away when seeking employment. The little money she and her father had left was dwindling fast. Just to keep the two of them plus Dixon living comfortably had taken more than Margaret anticipated. Margaret became even more desperate to find something she could do to earn her keep when she noticed her father's ailing health. As hard as he tried to conceal it from her, he had no idea his only daughter could hear his coughing fits in the early hours of the morning. Margaret told Dixon to take extra care on her father and make sure his tea was always plentiful. Which was the hard part for Margaret as they couldn't afford to live so frivolously, even when Margaret vowed to take as little as possible for herself.

That is how Margaret found herself on the opposite side of town this day, past the mill. She had yet to venture to this part and was hopeful to find any kind of employment. As Margaret walked down the busy street passing by the bustling shops and merchants with their wares, she could feel how bitter the cold air had become. It was now December and the thought of Christmas and the jolly festivities was on everyone's mind. But for Margaret it was bittersweet. Her fondest memories were of her mother and even Fred during Christmas. She missed how carefree and innocent she felt when she and her brother were younger. It would have been about this time that decorations and plans would have been made for the anticipated day. Now, for Margaret it seemed like a lifetime ago.

Margaret found that she enjoyed this walk past the mill. It expanded her mind to find that Milton was a rather large place and she could easily get lost in it. There was a place that she had found that overlooked the whole of Milton. She stopped to look over the broad cramped town where smoke and fog hung eerily over the tops of buildings. She noticed for the first time that it was the quietest it had been since they arrived in Milton. The noise of the town, the people and the mill became muted as she stood overlooking her home from the hill. Moving on down the other side of the hill, Margaret found a small collection of hedge stones and found the discovery quite odd since it was nowhere near a church.

Margaret wished she could visit her mother's grave. _If only I could speak to her once again and not feel so alone._ Margaret still had not received a letter back from her cousin Edith. She hoped it wasn't due to the heartbreak she knew her cousin must be feeling. But still, she needed her cousin's words and guidance and hoped that Edith would benefit with the same comfort from Margaret. Margaret made up her mind to write to Edith again as soon as she returned home.

Margaret turned on hearing a pair of footsteps behind her on the gravel of the path. A young woman, perhaps Margaret's own age was walking through. To Margaret it looked as if the woman was meant to be somewhere and had taken this path before. Margaret took the chance and sought out the young woman, hoping she would oblige her and let Margaret accompany her on her walk into town. Margaret quickened her step to meet the hurrying woman.

"Excuse me?" Margaret stopped when the blonde looked at her and narrowed her eyes at the sight of Margaret. "I'm sorry to have startled you, my name is Margaret Hale."

A glaze of realization came over the woman as if she had expected it to be her. _Strange_, Margaret thought, _to be a stranger and feel as if everyone already knows you_.

"I know you, you're the clergyman's daughter. The one who left the church."

Margaret didn't know what to say to that, surprised to hear her father so openly talked of in this manner like the woman had known her and her father.

After a pause of silence the blonde woman said, "I'm Bessie, Bessie Higgins."

"Higgins? Are you related to Nicholas Higgins?"

"He's my father."

"And Mr. Thornton's footman."

Bessie nodded, with an air of knowing in her eyes while looking at Margaret. It made Margaret shiver, even as warm as she felt with her coat and shawl, she couldn't shake the uneasiness this woman made her feel.

"Do you have an appointment to keep?"

Bessie arched her light blonde brow at Margaret.

"I only meant to inquire if you would let me accompany you into town. I'm still not sure of my way, you see I'm looking for a position."

Bessie snorted, "What, you? I don't believe it."

"Believe it or not it has been my task since we came here to find a suitable job for myself."

"Well," Bessie said with a satisfied smile, "Looks like most everyone was wrong about you." Bessie started to walk away from Margaret down the hill, it left Margaret no choice but to follow behind.

"I'm sorry you said they were wrong about me? Who?"

"Bein' a new face in Milton and already scheming with the likes of the Thornton's, people are bound to make assumptions. Not sayin' it's my place mind you to talk about the master, especially one my father works for. But the Thornton's, they definitely have a reputation. You'll soon find for yerself."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. If you mean that the Thornton's are a proud overbearing sort of family then I can assure you…"

"Like I said, you'll see for yerself, in time."

Both women had stopped short of their walk, assessing each other when Bessie gave a most ungodly snort of laughter which in turn Margaret was helpless not to react the same, though a little more dignified.

"Come on, I was just on my way home. You can walk with me if you'd like. And you can tell me where you've already looked for a job."

Margaret relayed all she had done and all the places she had seen to and every one of them had nothing to offer. After telling Bessie of her refusal from Mr. Thornton, Bessie swung around towards Margaret sharply and looked wide eyed at Margaret.

"You went to Thornton? Why'd ya do that?"

"His sister assured me he would be more than obliging to meet with me as an equal. Although he turned me down I cannot say that he was ungentlemanly towards me."

"Why ever would he turn ye down? Mill owners are always looking for more hands." Bessie declared, confused by the thought.

Margaret merely shook her head, not knowing Mr. Thornton enough to reason his decisions herself.

"Does your father like working for Mr. Thornton?"

Bessie seemed to contemplate her answer, making sure she didn't say something wrong.

"The master's been good to my father, so he can't complain." Bessie smiled to reassure Margaret. "We live very comfortably compared to before, or so my father tells me."

"How long has he worked for Mr. Thornton?" Margaret asked, trying to put the puzzle pieces together in her head.

"As far back as I can remember. Before I was born even." Another cloud came over Bessie's face and Margaret knew something wasn't right. Bessie was trying to hide something.

"That would mean your father has worked for Mr. Thornton for over fifteen years. I thought Mr. Thornton was only in his early thirties?" _That can't be right_, Margaret wondered.

"Enough talk of Thornton, do you want to come to my house or not?" Bessie said quickly with a glimmer of a smirk that was meant to reassure Margaret.

Margaret would be patient to find out about the mystery that the Thornton's seemed to have clouding around them, there would be more times to talk to Bessie. But she wasn't sure why she had the sudden feeling of curiosity. After all, Mr. Thornton had become a good pupil and friend to her father. But this whole town seemed like one big mystery waiting to be discovered. Margaret wasn't sure whether she was ready to see past the façade, if indeed there was one.

Walking side by side in silence, Bessie and Margaret looked comfortable in each other's presence, despite the awkward turn their conversation had taken. Margaret wasn't sure if she would like Bessie Higgins, but she admired her willfulness and complete lack of decorum when it came to saying what she thought. Margaret thought it was a great change to the London society where you could never be sure if someone was right out lying to your face, just for the sake of propriety.

The part of town Margaret found herself in was a lot drabber in comparison to even Crampton, which had its eye sores in abundance. The murky green walls and muddy floors made Margaret conscious of her dress as she lifted her skirts to keep the hem from being soiled. Since Margaret couldn't afford to buy more dresses in the near future she had to keep the ones she had now in the best condition.

Bessie looked behind at Margaret with her lifted skirt and petticoat and shook her head from laughter.

"Careful you might offend the likes of us. We don't take kindly to too many airs."

Margaret didn't know whether Bessie was teasing her, so she let her hem drop on the floor, aware of every puddle and dirt path she walked across.

* * *

Margaret had stayed with Bessie well past a few hours when Nicholas Higgins came home. The two girls, who became fast friends, looked up at the open door. Bessie was surprised to see her father home so soon, but realized time must have slipped by her with the presence of Miss Hale.

Bessie stood, seeing the glare of disapproval in her father's eyes at seeing who was a guest in their homely house.

"Father, you know Miss Hale." Bessie said nervously.

Margaret sensed the tension and fought to meet Nicholas' eyes. When she did, she looked quickly to the floor, unsure of how to act in this situation. _Was I not welcome? Did I miss some sort of Milton etiquette?_

"Aye, I remember Miss Hale. Though I didn't expect to see you again so soon, nor in my home." Nicholas dropped his coat over the chair making his way towards the fire place that was humbly giving off very little warmth to the room.

After an awkward silence, Bessie gave her new friend a smile of apology and Margaret knew its meaning.

"Did you visit the Boucher's father?" Bessie asked her father, who was still brooding over the fire place.

"Aye, and they're no better than the last time I saw them." Nicholas sounded tired to both the women's ears.

Margaret looked away from the pair trying not to interfere but unsure whether she should excuse herself.

"Is there nothing you can do? Or Mr. Thornton?" Bessie pleaded.

"Bessie, I'll not have you speaking about this in front of her." Nicholas warned his daughter, pointing in Margaret's direction.

Bessie made a motion to Margaret that it was time for her to take her leave. She walked her to the door leaving Nicholas to himself. Bessie walked with Margaret to the corner of the street to see her off. It was starting to drizzle as the dark clouds formed overhead.

"I'm sorry Miss Margaret, if I had known about the time I wouldn't have let you stay so long." Bessie looked sheepishly at Margaret, hoping she didn't offend her new friend.

"Do not worry over me Bessie. I confess I am still unaccustomed to the different lifestyle you Northerners have compared to Helstone. How long do you think it will take me to feel at home I wonder?" Margaret mused mostly to herself with a smile.

"I should imagine a few years at least."

Margaret laughed at Bessie's attempt to humor her. They both smiled.

"Father gets himself worked up sometimes worrying about the others that can't help themselves. He feels guilty I think that he's better off than most of his friends. And they have more children then you would want .You see my sister Mary and my mother died before Thornton hired him. Childbirth killed them both. He blames himself for everything. Our neighbors, the Boucher's you heard us talk of," Margaret nodded, embarrassed that it was obvious she was trying not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but failed, "Boucher worked for Thornton once, but was let go on account of I don't know what. He's a strange one, saying the oddest thing about Mr. Thornton being a devil of a man. They have six children. They'll be dead by Christmas if nothing is done. But there's not much we can do."

"And Nicholas won't ask Mr. Thornton as you said." Margaret concluded.

"It's not that I think he won't. My father's too proud you see. Thornton has done so much for us, father's afraid to ask for more." Bessie said, as the rain started to fall heavily on both their heads.

"I see."Margaret felt for the Boucher's and their children, she wondered if there was something she could do, but remembered her father's health. _Surely someone like Mr. Thornton would be willing to help a starving family_, Margaret hoped. She was unsure of why Boucher had been thrown from the mill by Mr. Thornton. Margaret made a mental note to herself to bring it up to Fanny to hear the whole story. Maybe from there she could implore on Mr. Thornton's good nature to help the poor family, possibly even hire him back on. But she wouldn't know until she talked to Fanny.

"Bessie, it's time to come inside now." Margaret saw Nicholas come from inside their house with the same moody glare on his brow.

"I hope to see you soon Margaret." Bessie said as she went back to her house.

"Me too Bessie, thank you." Margaret watched as Bessie entered her home and received another hard stare from Mr. Thornton's footman.

* * *

Margaret tried to make it home as fast as she could under the now pouring rain. She was soaked through by the time she arrived back to Crampton Street. As deserted as the streets were, Margaret couldn't help but look over her shoulder after every corner she turned. It was hard enough seeing through the pelting rain, but even more unnerving when she felt the familiar prickle up her spine like she was being watched again. The visions of her dream came back to her.

She bolted towards the last corner she knew would lead her home when she collided head on with a bulky frame. The hands wrapped themselves around her upper arms steadying her. Looking up into the eyes of Mr. Thornton her breath caught in an apology as she saw he was just as surprised as she was. He seemed dumbfounded for a moment but regained whatever composure he seemed to lack when in Miss Hale's presence.

"Miss Hale, you should be home." He started to turn back where he came from taking Miss Hale with him.

"I was just on my way from a friend's house." Margaret tried to explain.

"What friend would let you walk home unattended?" He asked skeptically.

"A new one I'm afraid, and one without luxury to send me in a carriage." Margaret felt like she had to raise her voice over the pounding of the rain on the concrete. But Mr. Thornton seemed to have no trouble hearing her as he pulled her back to her house.

Once under the cover of her house Margaret pulled herself from Mr. Thornton's grasp, bringing a sudden chill to the arm that he had held. Mr. Thornton took the abruptness of her gesture as a sign that he had pushed too far, and regrettably started to take his leave from the Hale's once again. With a glower upon his face Mr. Thornton disappeared into the night before Margaret could thank him.

After Margaret attempted to dry herself off, she went to see her father. Still, in his study where he had been with Mr. Thornton.

"Margaret, I'm glad you're home." He smiled at his daughters flushed face, assuming it was from the cold outside, unaware of whom she had run into down the street. "Mr. Thornton just left, I'm afraid you missed him."

"Yes. I did miss him. How was your day father?" Margaret asked, knowing he wouldn't tell her if he had been feeling ill at all.

"My time with Mr. Thornton did just the trick. I'm quite fond of his company. He makes me feel young again."

"I'm glad father." Margaret kissed his brow, noting how chilled he felt.

"You had a message sent for you while you were away. By the way where did you go my dear?"

"I met Mr. Higgins's daughter, Bessie. She was kind enough to show me around. I'm afraid we got caught up. I don't think Mr. Higgins was too fond of me at his house." Margaret said regrettably.

"These Northern men are quite proud, don't take it personally Margaret." He patted his daughter's arm to sooth her.

"I won't father, I'm learning quickly how to fare in this industrial town I think." It wasn't so much the town, but the strange people that Margaret couldn't quite figure out. The more she ventured out and met people the more she wanted to recede into her home. But complications of their situation made that impossible, and Margaret knew that from the beginning.

"I won't keep you from your letter my dear, I'll bid you good night."

Mr. Hale and Margaret said their good nights on the stairs as he went to their own rooms. Margaret waited until she saw her father enter his room before she ventured up to hers. Walking up the stairs Margaret was mindful of the last step that creaked whenever she stepped over it. She had tried to remember it whenever her father was asleep as not to wake him. As she expected the floorboard gave a great groan as she stepped through her room.

Closing the door behind her, Margaret opened her letter hastily; anticipating that is was finally from Edith or her Aunt Shaw. A little disappointed that she had not yet heard from Edith, she still felt comfort that Fanny had taken the time and thought to write to her. Margaret had not seen Fanny since she and Mrs. Thornton came to visit over two weeks ago.

_Miss Hale,_

_I regret that I have not paid you a visit or written to you since our first meeting. Certain complications _

_have kept me busy. But as I now find myself available, I would be open to you paying me a visit at _

_Marlborough Mills. I long to catch up with you and see how your job hunting is progressing. I shall _

_expect you tomorrow around noon._

_Your friend,_

_Fanny Thornton_

Margaret folded the letter back into the envelope. She had dreaded this for two weeks. A friendship with Fanny meant she would now and again, and more often then she would like, have to come in contact with Mr. Thornton. She supposed it was for the best anyways. Even though she felt unsure of Mr. Thornton and his opinion of her, she knew many ties would be damaged if she were to outright ignore him. She could finally speak to Fanny about the Boucher situation, if Fanny felt it appropriate, then Margaret could appeal to Mr. Thornton for help. Even if Higgins would not ask, Margaret would try her best. Her mind danced around the image of the dark mill owner as he towered over her in the pouring rain.

* * *

When Mr. Thornton left Margaret safely in her home, he wondered if he was being uncivilized. He was aware, only after the fact that he had pulled Margaret down the street by her arm very forcefully. His only thought after catching her around the corner was to get her safely inside. _What was she thinking walking alone on a night like this_? No, he had done right. Civility be damned, he would not regret seeing her safely home.

The undeniable sting he felt at being taken from her grasp so suddenly had left him feeling quite cold. Colder then he was used to feeling in all his years. Her warmth and the kindness in her lovely eyes ignited a fire long forgotten in his chest. He couldn't dismiss it, this feeling. He knew it wasn't love. But for the possibility that such a creature would look at him with no inclination or prejudice on his past was enough for him, for the faintest moment to feel hope at her return of her affection.

Without thinking, and distracted by thoughts of Miss Hale his feet led him back to Marlborough Mills. He abruptly stopped before the tall green doors to look behind him to the shadows of the alley where he just ventured from. Seeing what only his eyes could see, he nodded at the presence making sure not to give himself away and turned back around to his home with a renewed fear for the safety of Margaret Hale.

A/N: I believe in the book the events take place over a course of a few years, I'm writing this story in a smaller time gap to match the pace of the series. Thank you for reading, sorry for the long wait. Please read and review!


	6. Chapter 6

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 6

A storm was coming.

John Thornton could see over the horizon of the hazy city, just where the fog met the outskirts of Milton. He knew by nightfall Milton would be under the cover of rain once again. Looking out through the window from his mill he could easily see all that went on beneath him. It felt strange looking out from the high window at his workers, watching them go to and fro in their tasks. He much preferred to be down with them, overseeing everything that went on around him. He could let himself become lost in the passing hours of the day if he kept himself busy with the mill.

But at the end of each day, as the whistle blew the signal that it was time to put work aside and return home, he longed for time to hold still. The leisure hours after the sun set behind the foggy horizon were his time, and his alone. He would come home to his mother and sister, finding them occupied in their womanly tasks, and take his place as the man of the house. As much as he enjoyed his work, as business was successful, he longed for the moments to himself. He spent a little while with his mother and Fanny to inquire what they did throughout their day, but his mind was usually set on retreating to his room.

But today, like all the other days for the past two weeks, he would ready himself for Mr. Hale at Crampton. He had taken up tutoring lessons with the old parson and thoroughly enjoyed their talks and discussions on the classics and the lack of romance and beauty that was not to be found in the works. Mr. Hale had laughed at the mill owner's attention to such a subject, but as Mr. Thornton must have realized, it wasn't everyday that a man of business took pleasure in the simple things. He felt like a boy again in the company of Mr. Hale, a boy who had missed and longed for the company of a father.

While Mr. Thornton thoroughly enjoyed Mr. Hales company, he couldn't help but wonder over the absence of his daughter. Every single time he came to call she was strangely absent. Mr. Thornton had long since expected that the lack of money and house staff would put some, if not all the responsibility on Margaret Hale. Mr. Thornton repeatedly felt guilty for the possibility of adding to the household chores when a guest was over. _Was_ _she in the kitchen? Was she out still looking for an occupation?_ The thought of Miss Hale out on her own seeking financial help was enough for Mr. Thornton to reconsider taking her on in his mill. _But how could he, when Miss Hale is obviously bred for more than being a hired hand. _He could not command her to do his bidding in the mill while knowing she would later be waiting on him in her own home. _No_, she was better off.

Mr. Thornton hoped that Mr. Hale would accept payment for his lessons. He still couldn't believe how a man with a daughter to care for wouldn't use this as an opportunity to free his family from the burden of possible destitution. He sometimes wondered whether Miss Hale would ever see him as a possible suitor, but quickly scoffed at the notion_. Miss Hale could obviously have any man of her choosing, why should she choose me?_ He thought bitterly. And yet he couldn't stay away from Crampton for the chance of seeing the beautiful Miss Hale and knowing her character better.

After making sure all was well at the mill, Mr. Thornton left for home that was only a few steps away. Walking through the black double doors that led to the parlor always brought some sense of relief to Mr. Thornton. Like all days before, he found the Thornton women seated in their usual arrangement. His mother, he noticed liked to sit with the light behind her adding to the foreboding outlining figure of the relentless headstrong woman, while his sister, dainty and fare as she was preferred the light to shine directly on her, it illuminated her pale skin and made her yellow hair shine like gold. Mr. Thornton often wondered whether Fanny took notice of the affect her beauty had, whether she was aware or not, you could never tell with Fanny. He smiled at his sister's indifference on her own presence and instantly thought that Miss Hale was the same way.

Margaret, as different as she was from Miss Thornton, had the same air of naivety when it came to the effect the women had over those around them. Mr. Thornton knew he had a weakness for beautiful, fragile things and women were no exception. Though a little in experienced as he was, he dote on his own sister and treated all women with equal respect and chivalry.

Walking through the room fully, bringing his presence to his mother's attention, he smiled at his mother as she raised her head from her needlework.

"How is the mill today John?" She inquired.

"The same as yesterday mother. We continue to do well." He smiled. It was the truth, but there was always the possibility that something could go wrong. He hoped that day would never come, especially knowing the wrath that would come from his landlord, Mr. Bell. Mr. Thornton swallowed hard at the thought.

Mrs. Thornton caught the unfamiliar look in her son's eye, and would question him later about it.

After a deafening silence as Mr. Thornton stood towering over the room, Fanny made a small sound like she was clearing her throat. But coming from Fanny it sounded so sweet that no one would ever have heard the noise or took notice of it. But Mr. Thornton, knowing his sister, stood at attention towards her. Mrs. Thornton wondered if Fanny ever truly realized how fond her brother was of her. Pride swelled up within her.

"I had thought of asking Miss Hale to come over for tea tomorrow." Fanny announced, still looking at her embroidery which John could see was frustrating her. She always got a little knot between her brows whenever she tried too hard at something.

"I don't think that would be very wise Fanny." Her mother cut in before her son could answer, knowing full well how eager he would be to have the Miss Hale over.

Mr. Thornton chose his words carefully, knowing that Miss Hale already irked something in his mother that he couldn't be sure of.

"Perhaps you are too harsh mother. If Fanny would like to befriend Miss Hale I see no reason she shouldn't be allowed to." His heart hummed a little more than usual in his chest at the mention of Margaret Hale. He turned from his mother to try and hide the effect she already had on him. But nothing would go unnoticed by Mrs. Thornton. She saw her son catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror that hung above the fire place, he winced at his reflection, revolted by whatever he saw that he did not like. She regretted seeing this as she saw no reason why he should feel so lowly of himself. If it was any of Miss Hale's doing that her son should feel unworthy of her, then she was right in not letting her come to the house. In truth, Mr. Thornton's thoughts were confirmed that such a lovely creature as Miss Hale would never think of him as a suitor, especially if she found out whom he really was and what he was capable of. He almost regretted his decision all those years ago to join Mr. Bell, if it meant Miss Hale did not look at him with scorn, almost.

"You know my reasons for not wanting Miss Hale here." Mrs. Thornton replied to her son as Fanny continued to fiddle with her hoop and needle.

"No, I don't think I do." Mr. Thornton turned his gaze on her again, daring her to tell him how she really felt about Miss Hale.

"You know the danger associated with the Thornton name. Would you put her in such a risk?" Mrs. Thornton pushed.

After neither son nor mother replied, Fanny said, "John, Miss Hale would be far safer if she were right under our noses. If we avoid her company we do her more harm than good." The desperate look in Fanny's eyes tugged on her brother's compassion. He walked to her to stroke her cheek and gave her a half smirk.

Mrs. Thornton looked on, knowing she was defeated, in the end her son was master but Fanny could work him like a puppet. _No, she had no idea of the effect she had, especially on her brother_.

"Write to Miss Hale, Fanny. She can come tomorrow if she wishes." John said deeply to his sister, noticing how his heart skipped a beat saying Miss Hale's name out loud.

Fanny stood to kiss her brother on his sharp jaw. To John she seemed to bounce right out of her chair," I will write to her straight away to send it off as soon as possible."

"That won't be necessary. I am seeing Mr. Hale tonight. I will wait for your letter Fanny so I can take it with me." Mr. Thornton told her.

"Thank you, John." And Fanny flitted away, leaving her sewing behind on the chair.

After Fanny left, Mr. Thornton sat next to his mother. She appraised him knowingly, looking over his features that gave him away to her and herself alone.

"You will spoil her rotten." Mrs. Thornton declared.

"As if I haven't done so already?" John smiled knowingly to his mother.

"Are you sure about this, John?" Mrs. Thornton asked skeptically.

He knew she was speaking of Miss Hale. The danger that they risk associating with the Hales too closely, or anyone for that matter would put them at risk. But he would risk it, if it meant to protect Miss Hale at a closer advantage.

"I know what I'm doing." He said as finality, but knowing his mother this would be far from over so long as Miss Hale was involved.

"Do you? Is your heart ruling your head? Because if it is, I will not stand by and let her drag you down. You know what _he_ is capable of. You would risk everything?"

"I'll only risk myself!" John blurted out, standing up. "After everything we've been through I would not put you and Fanny through that again."

"I truly hope not. You are not yourself John. Do you even know Miss Hale?"

"I strive to know her mother. I try to be better for her. But how could anyone care for a man such as me?"

"If she really knew you, she would see the man I see." Mrs. Thornton said proudly. "If Miss Hale is a woman you would gladly risk everything for, you had better make sure she as worthy as you think."

Before he could argue with her, she was gone from the room. He was left with that final thought, if Miss Hale could never care for him, would he continue to protect her? The answer, he knew, without a doubt in his mind would always be, _yes_.

* * *

_My dear Edith,_

_I long to hear from you. I know you must be grief stricken still with your loss, but a single word from you would put my mind at rest. I need someone to talk to. I feel so alone. I can only tell you this with the strictest of confidence. My father would not hear of it. He seems to like Milton more than I ever could. I fear for him my dear cousin. He dwindles day by day. He is ill but cannot, will not see it. I am lost as of what to do._

_I've looked for guidance since my mother's passing, I do miss her terribly even more so now. I used to long to be away from Helstone but now I think my mother would have wanted us to stay there, in case Fred should ever come home again. Although I doubt it very much. I had thought of writing him telling him of our father, I know the risk but I cannot bear it alone. Do you think I should?_

_The strangest things have happened in Milton. I have met some interesting people. Fanny Thornton whom I told you about in my previous letter has written to me. I am to see her tomorrow. I admit although her mother and brother frighten me a little, I am relieved for the company. I met a sweet girl, Bessie Higgins, who is the daughter of Mr. Thornton's footman. It seems the Thornton's have connections everywhere._

_I feel like I'm constantly being watched, Edith. I cannot shake the feeling from my mind. I am afraid to tell father in his frail state and Dixon threatens to leave with talk of shadows and nightmares. I fear she is too fainthearted for Milton. I thought I was strong enough to bear it, but I cannot. Perhaps I am just lonely. I will write again to let you know how Fanny Thornton's visit did me. Please write to me Edith. A word will do. Just don't leave me alone in Milton._

_Margaret_

Margaret wiped her tears from her face before she would let them touch the drying ink. She felt better putting her thoughts onto paper, but still couldn't understand why Edith had not replied. She would keep trying, everyday if she had to, to reach her cousin.

She set the letter aside to be delivered on her way to the Thornton's tomorrow. She couldn't help but anticipate seeing Fanny, who she had wanted to call on after what she did for her. Even though her brother had refused her for work, she would be forever grateful for Fanny's kindness. The thought of seeing Mr. Thornton caused Margaret to toss and turn all night. In anticipation or fear, she couldn't decide.

* * *

Fanny had answered the door herself with a beaming smile that had an immediate effect on Margaret. Fanny showed her in like she was the lady of the house and Margaret wondered if Mrs. Thornton and her son would be joining them. As if Fanny could read her thoughts, she informed Margaret, "Don't worry, it will be just you and me. Mother and John will be busy at the mill."

Hearing Mr. Thornton referred to as _John_ made him seem so harmless on Fanny's tongue. Margaret realized she didn't know Mr. Thornton well enough and decided for Fanny's sake she would try to get to know his character better. She could really use a friend after all, and if she happened to get two in the end, well then she was better off.

"This is the parlor, we do most of our entertaining here." Fanny said proudly. "We will spend our time here Miss Hale. "If you would like to see the library or music room I'd be happy to show you."

"Thank you Miss Thornton." Margaret said shyly.

"Please, it's Fanny."

"Then I am Margaret to you as well."

They both nodded in agreement and sat down opposite from each other on the same couch. Fanny had called for tea and all was silent until the tea was brought, set and served. The ticking of the grandfather clock across the room thumped in Margaret's ears with the deafening silence, she wished for Fanny to say something while she tried to think of something herself.

Fanny beat her to it.

"I'm sorry you were refused by my brother, Margaret. I honestly believed he might at least give you a chance." Fanny told her with regret in her eyes.

"He is a man of business. I am sure he was doing right by the mill."

"He is always doing right, even when it seems wrong at the time." There was another silence as Margaret tried to understand her meaning. "So you have had no other luck in your venturing?"

"None. Even Mr. Higgins's daughter offered a few suggestions but no hope could be had."

"There is always hope Margaret. I take it your father is not a salary tutor?"

"He gives lectures and lessons as contribution to the community. He's always felt that education was the source of success. That is why he left the church. His conscience would not let him give sermons when he could put his teaching skills elsewhere. He thought he was better needed elsewhere."

"Your father is right Margaret, and very wise. That is something that Milton lacks, education."

"I'm surprised Fanny that you should think so. Pleasantly, don't get me wrong. It's just that with your brother…"

"Because my brother is a man of business his stubbornness would reflect on me as well? I know your meaning Miss Hale and I promise I do not take offence. You see my brother feels the same as I, or rather I feel the same as he. It is his position that holds him back from speaking his mind about such issues. If John had his way all his workers would be educated, and the little ones in school."

"What is it he is afraid of? Excuse me, I meant what will he think will happen if he made such a decision?"Margaret was intrigued to learn that a man of business would take an interest in their workers, slowly pieces of John Thornton were coming together.

"Not all the decisions concerning the mill depend on my brother." Fanny said derisively.

"Mr. Bell? Your landlord?" Margaret faltered and tried not to drop her tea cup.

Fanny nodded.

"So, if Mr. Thornton wished to help his workers the final say so would depend on Mr. Bell?"

Again, Fanny nodded.

"That would explain the Boucher's." Margaret whispered as she slowly sipped her tea.

"Boucher?"Fanny asked, familiar with the name.

"They are a family living next door to Bessie Higgins and her father. She told me they were at the brink of death. I was confused as to why Boucher was no longer in Mr. Thornton's employment or why no help was being given. I suppose I have my answer."

"You must realize Miss Hale that not all business is black and white. If my brother had his way this town would be thriving just as the mill is. My brother would see to it that the families of the hands that work for him would be taken care of. That is why Boucher was ultimately let go because he put the mill at risk once. My brother would not stand for one man being responsible for the death of many. He wouldn't wish to see them as we once were."

"What do you mean Fanny?"As intrigued as Margaret was as to the details surrounding Boucher, she became more interested in the secrets of the Thorntons.

"If I say Margaret, I tell you in the strictest confidence. John and mother would be furious with me if they knew." Margaret nodded, giving her vow of silence, already too intrigued to back away now. "When I was just a babe, our father died. No, he killed himself. He was a gambler and we were left penniless because of his irresponsible ways. He couldn't bare the shame and took his own life."

"I'm sorry Fanny."

"As I said I was just a baby, so what I tell you is only what I've heard from John. He gave up school to earn money for our survival. Which he did, slowly but surely. He was able to put just enough away to keep us off the streets. When John was just entering manhood, that's when we met Mr. Bell and he offered us more then we could imagine. He gave John position as the head of the mill. Soon we flourished and John has been successful ever since. It's because of my brother that I only remember the life he made for mother and me. I can see it though, when he wishes it was different. Even though he would never admit it, he misses our father."

Margaret didn't know what to say. It was pointless to say sorry, but Margaret could almost relate to Mr. Thornton. Her situation didn't seem half as bad as what the Thornton's went through.

"Did you know, Fanny, Mr. Bell is my godfather?" Margaret asked.

Fanny seemed shocked and almost revolted. "I didn't Miss Hale." Margaret noticed Fanny went back to using her proper name. "Boucher was fired for endangering the lives in the mill, including my brothers. He lit a pipe you see and with the fluff of the cotton, well a flame could be quite a danger. But Boucher was always giving my brother a problem, he tried to put it aside but when he became too inquisitive, John had no choice to let him go." Fanny admitted.

It seemed both women were at the point of revealing all the secrets they could share. After a long pause of understanding, Fanny asked, "Would you like to see my father's portrait?"

Margaret could hardly refuse with the longing look that came over Fanny's face. Margaret could sense that Fanny missed her father as much as Mr. Thornton did, even though she couldn't remember him. Margaret could understand the longing of a long lost parent. Even now it was hard for Margaret to bring a clear likeness of her mother in her mind. _At least_, she thought, _Fanny had a portrait to remind her_.

Fanny led Margaret up the staircase to a room at the end of a dark hall. Before Fanny opened the door she turned to Margaret.

"This is my mother's room." She warned. And Margaret nodded in understanding, her heart hammering in her chest.

Fanny opened the door to a darkened room that was filled with hanging curtains from ceiling to floor. All the dark hues screamed Mrs. Thornton. The portrait hung center over the fire place that was directly across from the neatly made bed. Margaret briefly wondered if Mr. Thornton's room looked the same.

"Every time I look at his picture, a little bit of my own memory fades away."

Margaret peered closer at the stern brow, dark hair and faint smirk at the corner of the lips. "He looks just like Mr. Thornton." Margaret gasped.

Fanny nodded in agreement. "Sometimes I wonder if John realizes it too. I know my mother sees it whenever she looks at him. I try not to notice it, I can't bare the thought of John having a likeness to my father."

"Fanny!?"

The two women whipped around at the sound of the irate voice behind them.

"Mother?" Fanny was petrified and so was Margaret. Margaret could feel her knees starting to give way, every nerve in her body told her to run away, but Mrs. Thornton blocked her escape route.

Mrs. Thornton glared at her daughter as Fanny bowed her head in fear and shame. When Mrs. Thornton's eyes came upon Margaret, she thought she would collapse right then and there. She could see the rage boiling behind Mrs. Thornton's normally cool facade.

"I'm surprised at you Miss Hale that you would not think it wrong to barge into my rooms."

"It was not…" Fanny started to protest but the look from her mother quickly silenced her.

"I will speak to you later Fanny, go."

With a quick glance to Margaret, Fanny bolted from the room making sure not to get to near her mother.

_No_, Margaret pleaded after Fanny left, _do not leave me_.

Mrs. Thornton took a few steps towards Margaret, but stopped short to gaze at the portrait behind Miss Hale. Margaret regretted what she had done, she should have known better. But to know the Thornton's better was all that she desired. They were such a mystery to her and the thought of Mr. Thornton, she didn't know why she was so curious about the master of Marlborough Mills but she had to know him.

"I am very sorry Mrs. Thornton, Fanny didn't mean…" Margaret tried to plead with Mrs. Thornton.

"I know how sorry you are. Fanny was foolish to think you would benefit by being in our company, but she was wrong. I do not wish to know you better Miss Hale. Nor I think does my son." Mrs. Thornton sneered at Margaret, daring her to argue.

But she could not. What right did she have to know any of them if she took these measures to find out? Why did her imagination of the mysteries of the Thornton's get out of hand when they were just a respectable, private family.

Margaret was ashamed and Mrs. Thornton knew it.

Without another word Margaret fled from the room. As she ran down the hallway she could hear Fanny sobbing from behind her doors. Margaret too could not help the tears that fell. Tears of shame, shame that she should be so ignorant as to let her musings get the best of her. She raced towards the front door, quickly grabbing her hat and shawl.

Upon opening the door, letting the light into the dark entryway, Margaret was stunned to see none other than Mr. Thornton standing before her.

He saw the tears on her cheeks and the distress written upon her face. She couldn't bear to look at him, knowing he would soon learn what she had done and how he would hate her then. More tears fell against her will.

"Miss Hale what is the matter? Is it your father?" He brought her back into the house but she resisted, wanting nothing more than to flee from this place forever.

"I have done wrong, please let me go!" Margaret begged, turning her face to the light outside. Freedom was a few steps away. All she had to do was to release herself from Mr. Thornton's grasp. If it wasn't for the fact that she knew he would scorn her actions once he knew, she would have thrown herself into his arms for comfort. The struggle was too much for her.

"Wrong? Miss Hale what has happened?" He was close to hysterics himself. _Why was she trying to run away? Why was she always trying to get away from him? _He realized he was holding onto her. As he let her go he couldn't ignore the fact that she let her shaking hands linger on his for just the faintest of moments. Nor the look in her eyes that pleaded with him. _For what? What did she want from him?_

She backed herself against the wall, holding onto herself for comfort, "I'm sorry Mr. Thornton." And with that she ran from him. He started to go after her but stopped himself. All he could do was watch her fly across the courtyard, disappearing behind the corner. He held himself upright with one hand on the door the other in midair as if he could stop her by sheer will alone.

_What had happened? Where was Fanny? His mother?_ He raced through his house trying to find either woman. Fanny, he could hear, was in her room. His mother's door, down the hallway, was wide open, he rushed to it. Finding his mother's back to him and looking at his father's portrait, he sensed something was wrong within the room. The picture of his father seemed to look down at him with scorn. He never came in here because of that portrait. The relentless hold his father had even after death, and the reminder of failure was something John didn't need.

"Mother, what has happened?"

After she did not reply or acknowledged his presence, he pressed again.

"Miss Hale, she was distressed and Fanny also. Mother, tell me what happened?!" His stern voice commanded her to turn to him, but she did not diminish the look of hate from her eyes.

"That girl is too inquisitive for her own good. She was in here John, my room, looking at your father's portrait." She said with venom on her tongue.

"She was looking at the portrait?" John couldn't see the fuss of such an act. Obviously Fanny was keen to share their father, although he couldn't stand even now to take another glance at it.

"Yes. She may have stolen you away from me, but she will not take him from me!" She pointed to the portrait that John couldn't help but look at now. It was almost like looking in a mirror, he glanced away. He was confused at his mother's meaning. "I have stood by while she claimed your heart day by day, but she will not take my husband from me!"

Mr. Thornton understood his mother's distress, but couldn't fathom her reasoning. "Fanny only wanted to show her our father, mother. You will always have me and the memory of father." He assured her.

"You can't see it can you? The hold she has on you. You are blind as well as naïve to think such a girl would have you."

The pain of the truth of his mother's words cut through him like a dagger. The portrait of his father seemed to laugh at his pain.

"I know she would never have me, I've known since the beginning. But don't ever say I am blind to the fact." Mr. Thornton was furious to be made a fool of. How could his heart not hope that Miss Hale would come to care for him? With the way she looked at him just moments ago, how could he not see that he may have a chance? If not for the confirmation of his mother's words he would laugh at the statement and say his mother need not worry. But it hurt, in his heart he knew he loved Margaret Hale, without the expectation of her feelings in return. He would have to live with the unshared feelings till the end of his days. But nothing would stop him from trying.

"She is not worthy of you, John." She finally explained.

"Do not say so. Not when you and I are the ones that need to beg her forgiveness." John told his mother sternly, no longer sensitive to her feelings about sharing his heart.

"_Her_ forgiveness?" Mrs. Thornton asked skeptically.

"She has done nothing wrong. Yes, she shouldn't have come to your rooms, but that was Fanny's doing. Miss Hale need not be chastised for looking upon a portrait of a dead man." Mr. Thornton was satisfied in his argument, he made to leave.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"To see to Fanny, I believe she was innocent in this also."

Mrs. Thornton fumed with the desire to defend her rights as a mother and wife, that her feelings should be put aside for the sake of one lowly girl made her hate her all the more. That her son had fought her in this and taken the side of the accused made Mrs. Thornton wish Mr. Bell would soon show himself in Milton.

A/N: I really hope you guys like this one, I spent a few days on it trying to really pull the tension together and develop the uncertain feelings on Margaret's half. It's my favorite so far. Please read and review to let me know how the story is doing out there. Thank you for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 7

The pounding pulse in her head would not stop. After crying herself to sleep, Margaret woke with thoughts of the previous day. Still ashamed and embarrassed to have been caught doing something so deceitful and unforgiveable. How could something as simple as looking at a portrait turn into something so wrong? The Thornton's obviously didn't care for the fact of their father's and husband's death to be widely known. His memory was something that they cherished amongst themselves.

_And poor Fanny_. Margaret thought of how this could affect her. Especially the relationship between her and her brother. Margaret would hate herself if the bond between brother and sister was somehow severed because her thoughtless actions. Now that Mr. Thornton surely knew, did he hate her as his mother did? Would they let Fanny see her again? Margaret had to think that her time getting to know the Thornton's was probably over for good.

Not wanting to alert her father of Dixon that anything was amiss, Margaret dressed herself for the long day ahead of her. Margaret walked out of her room, comforted by the ever present creak in the floorboard outside her room that usually alerted her father that she was awake.

She was surprised to find her father by the door, dressed in coat and cap ready to go out. He didn't seem fit enough to be standing up, let alone going outside in the frigid weather. Snow had fallen last night as Margaret ran home from the Thornton's. She always loved the peace that came with the snow fall, but today she would prefer anything to a silent, slow day.

"Father, what are you up to?" Margaret came over to him to kiss him on the cheek. It did not go unnoticed how cold he was, she fastened his scarf around him tighter.

"I was going to go to church this morning. I feel quite myself today and would like to attend."

"Are you sure? It's quite cold out." Margaret did not like the idea of her father going anywhere in his state, even if he said he was well.

"Yes, I am quite determined. Would you go with me Margaret?" She could see the worry in his eyes that she might say no. But how could she let him go alone? She would have to face the Thornton's if they were going to attend, but she would be brave today, even if she didn't feel in the least brave to do anything but stay indoors where no one could see her.

* * *

The church was full by the time Margaret and her father got there. Margaret thought it perfect as there were no seats at the front. They could sit in the back unseen by anyone. Once she got her father settled she couldn't help but look around the church and try to determine by the back of all the heads in front of her, if any of them were the Thornton's.

To her horror, she could recognize Mr. Thornton anywhere, and found him with his mother and sister on either side of him, seated near the front. As if he could sense her presence he turned and looked straight at her. No smile was given or even an acknowledgment of her attendance. He made eye contact with her but whispered something in Fanny's ear. His sister soon turned around and gave a kind smile and wave to her. Margaret was relieved that he had seen her, and she could get through the morning and future meetings to come without the anticipation.

The service was long but Mr. Hale seemed to enjoy it immensely. Margaret was glad, in spite of everything, else that she came.

When everyone filed out of the church around noon, Margaret tried to make a quick escape with her father but he stopped her, oblivious to her haste.

"I will speak to Mr. Thornton before we go." He smiled to her.

"Of course father." They waited to the side for the appearance of the Thornton's from the church. Bessie Higgins and her father left the church and Bessie waved to Margaret as she was steered away by her father. Margaret tried not to feel the sting of yet another friend being shielded from the likes of her. _What must people think of me that they would not wish anyone to be in my company?_ She thought sadly, but she remembered the kind smile Fanny had shown her. Margaret had hope. Of course, the Thornton's were the last to leave the church.

Before Mr. Thornton could see Mr. Hale, Fanny saw Margaret and rushed to her immediately.

"Oh Miss Hale, I am so glad you attended church today." Fanny gave a great smile and embraced Margaret, to her joy.

"As am I Fanny." Margaret said happily.

"Don't mind me Margaret," her father said, "You may go with your friend."

"Are you sure father?"

He smiled to his daughter and her concern, "Yes my child, go or Miss Thornton will burst at the seams." He chuckled. Margaret saw Mr. Thornton go to her father just as she left his side, thankful for his presence in his frail state. She felt that Mr. Thornton must know that his friend was ill.

As soon as Margaret and Fanny were alone, Fanny spoke with regret, "Margaret, I am more sorry then I can say. What happened yesterday…"

"Please, Fanny you need not apologize to me. I know the mistake I made and I am the one who should be sorry. Especially to your mother." _And to your brother, if he would have my apology_, she thought.

"No, Margaret, I was thoughtless to my mother's wishes. Please do not blame yourself."

"I think we will both agree to not blame each other then, Fanny." Margaret smiled.

"I would be quite satisfied with that." Fanny said happily.

"Are they quite angry with me?" Margaret dared to ask.

"Not very. My mother was quite distressed, but John talked her down. He seemed to think the whole thing silly." Fanny chuckled.

"Silly?" Margaret couldn't believe it.

"Yes. He was more concerned that we may not be friends any longer." Fanny admitted.

"Oh." Was all Margaret could say.

Margaret could see Mr. Thornton talking to her father across the way and wondered what made Mr. Thornton smile so easily. He looked strangely different when he wasn't scowling, which he seemed to do a lot in her presence. She longed to know what made him smile, but wouldn't dare intrude on their conversation. Margaret felt her chest tighten as Mr. Thornton looked her way and his glorious smile faded. To Margaret's surprise she found that it hurt that he didn't look upon her the same as he seemed to her father.

"Here comes mother." Fanny interrupted her thoughts.

Mrs. Thornton strode over to them without any sign that something had gone amiss just the day before.

"Mrs. Thornton, please accept my apology." Margaret began but was cut short.

"Please Miss Hale, you must accept mine for behaving so brashly and unjustly to you yesterday."

Margaret froze. _Mrs. Thornton was apologizing to me?_

"Mrs. Thornton there is nothing to forgive." Margaret tried to say.

"Do you accept my apology or not Miss Hale?" Mrs. Thornton asked impatiently.

Margaret stuttered, "I do."

"Then we shall accept you for tea when you can join us, Miss Hale."

Margaret looked to Fanny for an explanation to what was happening, but Fanny just shrugged unsure herself. "Thank you, I will speak with Fanny on the invitation."

With a curt nod Mrs. Thornton left for their carriage. Before entering though Mrs. Thornton turned to her daughter, "Fanny, remember Mr. Bell visits us within the week. Plan your tea with Miss Hale accordingly."

"Yes mama." Fanny said surprised.

Margaret couldn't breathe. _Mr. Bell was going to be here within a week?_ Surly he will come to see them also. She couldn't bear it. She had to leave. The instinct to flee was urging her to move hastily.

"Fanny, I must go." Without a word Margaret left Fanny's side, dumbfounded. Mrs. Thornton looked on seemingly pleased at the state of Miss Hale.

Margaret had to find her father to leave at once. He was no longer speaking to Mr. Thornton, but to the priest. She waited as patiently as she could for him, not wanting to make a scene.

Mr. Thornton made his way to his carriage where his sister and mother were waiting. At the last minute he stopped by Margaret before he left. He could not go on and ignore her like nothing had happened and she was nothing to him, though he tried not to show it.

"Miss Hale, good morning." He said without a change of expression as he tipped his hat to her.

"Good morning Mr. Thornton." She stopped looking at her hands to see him face to face. She wasn't surprised by the sternness of his face, but wished more then ever to see that smile of his directed at her.

"I hope I do not seem to forward Miss Hale, so forgive me when I ask about your father's health." He asked genuinely concerned, looking back at the man in question. They could both see how frail and thin he was, but his spirit was ever present.

_So he did notice_. It wasn't just her imagination.

"Thank you Mr. Thornton. I do believe he is quite ill. But he denies it. I'm afraid if I call a doctor my father will send him away."Margaret knew her father would not accept help.

"Would it help Miss Hale if I brought my doctor over to Crampton?" He asked gazing at her, willing her to accept his help, if not for herself then for her father.

Margaret raised her head to look inquiringly at Mr. Thornton. She felt curiosity as to his meaning or if there was an artier motive. But there was none, the sincere look in his eyes that he wanted to help his friend tugged at her heart. She believed, for that moment, that nothing would come between them, _so long as he had the friendship of her father_, she reminded herself.

"I could say he is a friend so your father won't suspect. He could make his best judgment on your father without him even knowing he is being examined." Mr. Thornton smirked at his plan, unknowingly rewarding Margret for that briefest of expression. It wasn't a full, sincere smile but it was something.

"You would do that for me?"

"For your father, of course. He is a dear friend to me." Mr. Thornton regretted that he couldn't say what he knew to be true in his heart. _I would do anything for you_.

"Yes of course my father, I thank you Mr. Thornton most ardently." Margaret recovered her wits.

"Miss Hale, about yesterday, you need not distress yourself over what occurred. No harm was done." Mr. Thornton assured her.

"Thank you Mr. Thornton." _So_ _long as you don't hate me, I will bear it._

"When shall I call your father?"

"As soon as it is convenient for you Mr. Thornton. I would not like to prolong my father's ailing health."

"As you wish Miss Hale, I will make plans as soon as possible," He paused, "Might I expect you there as well? I mean, you will be there when I call?"

"Yes, of course. I would not like to leave my father now."

"Good day Miss Hale, I will see you soon."

Margaret was in a daze as she watched Mr. Thornton enter his carriage and drive away. All at once the thought of Mr. Bell coming, came crashing down on her once again just as her father made his way towards her.

"Father, Mr. Bell will be in town within the week." Margaret said it as a warning, but to her father's ears it sounded like good news.

"Is he? I would very much like to see him."

Margaret thought of every possible excuse for her to leave Milton while he was here. But as Edith hadn't written back, and she was sure she was not wanted at the Higgins, and going to the Thornton's would push her right into a meeting with Mr. Bell, she had nowhere to go. She knew eventually she would see him again, but now that it was so soon, she couldn't bear to wait for the inevitable moment.

* * *

As soon as Margaret and her father came home and she saw that he was comfortable and warm, she decided to write to Fred. Everything in her told her it was a risk, but in her heart she knew it to be the right thing to do. If she were in Fred's situation, and he in hers, she would want him to write. She wouldn't tell her father of her decision, knowing how greatly it would upset him and possibly make him worse.

She sat down at the kitchen table while Dixon brewed the tea for her father. As she set to writing down her letter, Dixon couldn't help but inquire, knowing all too well who and why her mistress was writing to.

"Are you sure Miss Margaret?" Dixon only asked because she thought of dear Mrs. Hale and how this would have affected her. She was only doing what she knew her former mistress would have done for her poor daughter.

"I am quite sure Dixon. It is just a precaution. A doctor will come with Mr. Thornton soon, and then we will know for sure. But for now, I will be at rest knowing Fred is aware of the situation." Margaret felt a surge of hope with the aid of Mr. Thornton, she would be forever indebted to him, and gladly so.

Margaret continued to write her letter, determined to send it off as soon as possible.

A while later, well into the night, Margaret set out to mail her letter. After dropping it into the letter box down the street, Margaret heard a shuffling of feet behind her. She turned around quickly, seeing Bessie come out of the darkness.

She was in distress and in hysterics, as she sobbed her way over to Margaret. Margaret could only look on in shock and wonder at what could possibly be the matter. After Bessie collapsed herself in Margaret's arms, she clung to her, muttering something Margaret could not understand.

"Bessie, what is the matter? What has happened?" Margaret asked frantically.

After a few more breathless sobs, Bessie went wide eyed and looked at Margaret.

"His soul! He is damned forever! Oh Margaret, help me!" Bessie cried into Margaret's bosom.

"Who? Bessie, what is this nonsense?" Margaret pleaded, starting to become frightened.

"My father! I fear for him!" She sobbed some more as Margret was more than confused at Bessie's rambling nonsense. Suddenly Bessie became frantic and tried to get away from Margaret.

"They'll find me with you! Oh no, Miss Margaret, I'm sorry!" Bessie ran from Margaret.

She was left confused as Bessie turned around and whispered in the dark, "Stay away from Mr. Thornton!" And Bessie disappeared from the street, leaving Margaret alone to wonder what had just happened.

Margaret shook as the echo of Bessie's warning danced around her, taunting her to forget her previous instincts of the Thornton's. _Was I right to assume that there is something wrong in Milton?_

Now, Margaret regretted sending the letter to Fred. _If he were to come here to Milton, will he be safe? _Margaret was sure she sent her brother off to an early grave with a letter that meant to do well. Now, she feared, she had brought more pain to what was left of her family.

A/N: Music is a huge inspiration whenever I try to do anything creative, especially when I write. I thought I'd share what drives me and inspires me to write this story. Hopefully it can get you readers in the mood too. Enjoy!

1. Vadim Dies-Wjciech Kilar-We Own the Night

2. Portrait of a Prince-Trevor Jones-From Hell

3. Frysta-Olafur Arnalds-Living Room Songs

4. Mina's Photo-Wjciech Kilar-Bram Stoker's Dracula

5. More Dreams-Danny Elfman-Sleepy Hollow

6. Power, Seduction, Cries-Clint Mansell-Black Swan

7. In the Theatre-Phillip Glass-Dracula

8. Violin Concerto-Mvt.2-Phillip Glass

9. Nuages from "Nocturnes"-Claude Debussy-Clair de Lune

10. End Credits-James Newton Howard-The Village

11. Love Remembered-Wjciech Kilar-Bram Stoker's Dracula

12. Into the Cave-Antonio Pinto-The Host

13. First Snow-Clint Mansell-The Fountain

14. Fantasia on a Theme-Thomas Tallis-Master and Commander

15. Tristan und Isolde:Prelude-The City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra & Richard Hein


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